FOUNDED  BY  JOHN  D.  ROCKEFELLER 


ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM 
OF  POETRY 


A  DISSERTATION 

SUBMITTED  TO  THE  FACULTY  OF  THE  GRADUATE  SCHOOL  OF  ARTS 

AND  LITERATURE  IN  CANDIDACY  FOR  THE  DEGREE  OF 

DOCTOR  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

(department  of  ENGLISH) 


BY 
GUY  ANDREW  THOMPSON 


GEORGE   BANTA    PUBLISHING    COMPANY 

MENASHA,  WIS. 
1914 


PREFACE 

The  chief  value  of  this  study  of  EHzabethan  critical  writings  on 
poetry  perhaps  lies  in  the  attempt  to  do  approximately  what  Saintsbury 
says  "would  lead  to  inextricable  confusion  and  criss-cross  reference," 
namely,  "to  trace  the  development  of  the  same  ideas  in  different  writ- 
ers."^ The  purpose  has  been  to  assemble  the  material  under  the  topics 
that  mainly  occupied  the  interest  of  the  critical  writers  of  the  period, 
and  to  view  the  standards  and  ideals  thus  exhibited  with  reference  to 
their  application  to  the  contemporary  problems  of  poetry.  Considera- 
tion of  the  whole  body  of  material  dealt  with  has  impressed  the  convic- 
tion that  Elizabethan  criticism  of  poetry — perhaps  more  independently 
English,  or  at  least  written  (often  by  the  poets  themselves)  more  with 
reference  to  actual  contemporary  problems  and  conditions  than  may 
have  heretofore  been  recognized — bears  significant  and  in  general  con- 
sistent relationship  to  the  poetic  product  of  the  time,  and  that  a  sym- 
pathetic knowledge  of  this  criticism  is  highly  important  for  an  adequate 
understanding  and  appreciation  of  EHzabethan  poetry. 

The  critical  writings  dealt  with  have  been  Hmited  chiefly  to  those 
that  come  within  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  most  of  which  are  included  in 
G.  Gregory  Smith's  edition  of  Elizabethan  Critical  Essays,  a  valuable 
source  of  material,  the  obligations  to  which  are  hereby  acknowledged. 
In  the  discussions  of  certain  topics,  however,  reference  has  been  made  to 
the  comments  of  earlier  and  later  critics.  The  comments  from  Bacon, 
Shakespeare,  and  Ben  Jonson  have  been  given  for  the  most  part  in  the 
footnotes.  Jonson's  criticism  has  not  been  included  in  the  text  of  the 
discussion  for  the  reasons  that  it  represents  a  somewhat  later  develop- 
ment, and  that  it  has  already  received  careful  attention  in  other  studies. 

Although  the  material  often  tempted  discussion  of  such  questions  as 
sources  and  the  classical  and  romantic  elements,  considerations  of  unity 
and  of  space  made  it  seem  advisable  to  adhere  to  the  plan  outlined,  even 
at  the  cost  of  apparent  neglect  of  important  topics.  Moreover,  these 
topics  have  been  ably  treated  by  other  students  of  EUzabethan  criticism. 
Faithful  endeavor  has  been  made  to  give  full  and  unbiased  evidence  on 
the  points  discussed,  and  to  this  end  the  critics  have  as  much  as  seemed 
expedient  been  allowed  to  speak  for  themselves.  A  brief  bibUography, 
giving  the  expanded  titles  of  the  principal  references  cited  in  the  foot- 
notes, will  be  found  at  the  end  of  this  volume. 

*  History  of  Literary  Criticism,  ii,  37. 


The  study  had  its  origin  in  a  short  paper  written  under  Professor 
Robert  M.  Lovett,  who  gave  encouragement  to  further  pursuit  of  the 
subject.  I  am  much  indebted  for  valuable  advice  to  Professor  Freder- 
ick I.  Carpenter;  to  Professor  Albert  H.  Tolman  and  Professor  Charles 
R.  Baskervill  for  giving  their  time  to  the  manuscript  and  making  many 
helpful  criticisms;  and  to  Professor  John  M.  Manly  for  needed  encour- 
agement  and   advice. 

G.  A.  T. 

University  of  Maine 
December,  1912 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

The  State  of  Poetry;  Causes;  Remedies 

I.    The  Unsatisfactory  State  of  Poetry 1 

II.     Causes 

1.  The  Puritan  Opposition 6 

2.  The  Rakehelly  Rout 9 

3.  The  Uncapable  Multitude 19 

4.  The  Lack  of  Talent  and  of  Patronage 25 

III.     Remedies 

1.  Improve — Honor  the  Science 35 

2.  The  Appeal  to  Patriotism 40 

3.  Poetry  and  Learning 48 

4.  Poetry  and  Aristocracy 55 

5.  Instruction .,- ^^ 

The  Nature  and  Function  of  Poetry 

I.    The  Exalted  Nature  of  Poetry — Gift  and  Inspiration 66 

II.     Matter  and  Form — Relative  Importance 78 

III.  Poetry  as  Fiction — Allegory,  Imitation 92 

IV.  The  Didactic  Function  of  Poetry 112 

V.     The  Esthetic  Function  of  Poetry 124 

Form 

I.     Style  and  Figure 141 

11.    Diction 159 

III.    Verse 175 

Bibliography 210 

Index  of  Names 213 


THE  STATE  OF  POETRY;  CAUSES;  REMEDIES 
I.    The  Unsatisfactory  State  of  Poetry 

Elizabethan  criticism  of  poetry  arose  largely  out  of  dissatisfaction 
with  the  existing  state  of  the  art  in  England  and  a  desire  to  improve  it. 
The  critics  agree  that  poetry  has  been  degraded  and  discredited,  their 
complaints  to  this  effect  beginning  early  and  continuing  throughout  the 
period,  for  in  their  minds  abuses  and  perversions  continue  to  threaten 
even  during  the  time  of  highest  poetical  excellence. 

As  early  as  the  second  decade  of  the  century,  the  author  of  the 
Interlude  of  the  Nature  of  the  Four  Elements  had  complained  of  "the  toys 
and  trifles"  then  being  printed,  declaring  that  though  in  English  there 
were  scarcely  "any  works  of  cunning",  the  most  "pregnant  wits"  were 
engaged  in  compiling  "ballads  and  other  matters  not  worth  a  mite. "^ 
An  inauspicious  state  of  affairs  is  also  reported  by  Sir  Thomas  Elyot, 

who,  in  The  Governor  (1531),  asserts  that  "for  the  name  of  poet 

now  (specially  in  this  realm)  men  have  such  indignation,  that  they  use 
only  poets  and  poetry  in  the  contempt  of  eloquence."^  Thomas  Drant, 
in  the  preface  to  his  translation  of  Horace's  Art  of  Poetry  (1567),  re- 
marks: "We  write  poesy  apace  of  all  hands some  with  more 

luck  than  learning. "  Roger  Ascham  writes  pessimistically  of  the  Eng- 
lish poetry  of  his  time,  deploring  the  fact  that  the  shops  in  London  are 
"full  of  lewd  and  rude  rimes "^  of  ignorant  versifiers.  Stephen  Gosson, 
railing  against  the  "infinite  poets  and  pipers,  and  such  peevish  cattle 
among  us  in  England,"  and  lamenting  the  dearth  of  poets  of  a  higher 

order,  says:     "If  you  inquire  how  many  such  poets we  have  in 

our  age,  I  am  persuaded  that  every  one  of  them  may  creep  through  a 
ring,  or  dance  the  wild  morris  in  a  needle's  eye";  and  he  is  of  the  opinion 

that  if  "  they  that  are  in  authority should  call   an  account  to 

see  how  many  Chirons,  Terpandri,  and  Homers  are  here,  they  might  cast 

*  Cambridge  History  of  Eiiglish  Literature,  iii,  108. 

2  Croft's  ed.,  i,  120. 

^  Schoohnaster  (1570),  Smith,  i,  31.  All  references  to  "Smith"  mil  be  understood 
to  refer  to  G.  Gregory  Smith's  Elizabethan  Critical  Essays,  2  vols.,  Clarendon  Press, 
1904. 


2  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

the  sum  without  pen  and  counters,  and  sit  down  with  Racha,  to  weep  for 
her  children,  because  they  were  not.  "•* 

Sir  PhiUp  Sidney  finds  England  a  hard  step-mother  to  poets  and 
poor  poetry  thrown  down  to  ridiculous  estimation,  "from  almost  the 

highest  estimation  of  learning fallen  to  be  the  laughing-stock  of 

children."''  Complaining  further  of  this  "hard  welcome",  he  declares 
that  "heretofore  poets  have  in  England  also  flourished,"  but  now  "they 
are  almost  in  as  good  reputation  as  the  mountebanks  at  Venice."  Tak- 
ing a  general  survey  of  English  poetry  he  finds  that,  although  there  are 
swarms  of  "versifiers",  besides  Chaucer,  the  Mirror  for  Magistrates, 
Surrey's  lyrics,  and  the  Shepherd'' s  Calendar,  he  remembers  "to  have 
seen  but  few  (to  speak  boldly)  printed,  that  have  poetical  sinews  in 
them."« 

Spenser  in  his  Shepherd's  Calendar  devotes  an  eclogue  to  a  complaint 
of  the  contempt  of  poetry  and,  though  in  so  doing  he  follows  poetic  tra- 
dition, the  complaint  is  evidently  in  a  measure  personal  and  with  appli- 
cation to  contemporary  conditions,  being  so  considered  by  E.  K.  and 
others.  Moreover,  he  gives  voice  to  similar  complaints  elsewhere, 
notably  in  his  Tears  of  the  Muses,  where  with  acrimony  he  laments  the 
debased  state  of  poetry  and  the  lack  of  literary  patronage.  Peerless 
poesy,  formerly  "held  in  sovereign  dignity,"  "the  care  of  kaisers  and 
of  kings,"  is  now  shamefully  neglected  alike  by  prince  and  priest  and 
suffered  to  be  profaned  by  the  "base  vulgar."  The  Areopagus  move- 
ment, in  which  Spenser  and  Sidney  were  both  interested,  with  its  schemes 
for  the  reform  of  English  versification,  arose  out  of  dissatisfaction  with 
the  existing  conditions,  as  in  general  did  the  "craze  for  classical  metres" 
and  similar  movements. 

*  School  of  Abuse  (1579),  Arber,  p.  27.     The  standard  of  Barnabe  Googe  in  1563 

{Eclogues,  Arber,  p.  8)  was  evidently  different: 

If  Chaucer  now  should  live,  whose  eloquence  divine, 

Hath  past  ye  poets  all  that  come  of  ancient  Brutus'  Une, 

If  Homer  here  might  dwell,  whose  praise  ye  Greeks  resound: 

All  these  might  well  be  sure  their  matches  here  to  find. 

So  much  doth  England  flourish  now  with  men  of  Muses'  kind. 

Drayton  corrects  this  extravagant  estimate  of  the  poets  of  Googe's  day.  In  his  epistle 

Of  Poets  and-  Poesy  he  observes  that  if  Gascoigne  and  Churchyard,  who  were  accounted 

"great  meterers"  in  the  "beginning  of  Eliza's  reign,"  had 
Liv'd  but  a  little  longer,  they  had  seen 
Their  works  before  them  to  have  buried  been. 

^  Apology  for  Poetry  (c.  1583),  Smith,  i,  151. 
^  lb.,    194,    196. 


THE   STATE   OF  POETRY;   CAUSES;   REMEDIES  3 

William  Webbe,  in  entering  upon  his  Discourse  of  English  Poesy 
(1586),  deprecates  the  unsatisfactory  character  of  the  poetical  activity 
of  his  time,  and,  like  some  of  the  other  critics,  is  rather  apologetic  for 
dealing  with  the  matter  at  all;  doing  so,  however,  because  men  of  great 
learning  have  no  leisure  to  handle  it,  "or  at  least  having  to  do  with  more 
serious  matters  do  least  regard"  it.  "It  is  to  be  wondered  at  of  all,"  he 
declares,  "and  is  lamented  of  many,  that  whereas  all  kind  of  good  learn- 
ing have  aspired  to  royal  dignity  and  stately  grace  in  our  English  tongue, 

being purged  from  faults,   weeded  of  errors,  and  pohshed  from 

barbarousness,  only  poetry  hath  found  fewest  friends  to  amend  it,  those 
that  can  reserving  their  skill  to  themselves,  those  that  cannot  rushing 
headlong  upon  it,  thinking  to  garnish  it  with  their  devices,  but  more 
corrupting  it  with  their  fantastical  errors.  What  should  be  the  cause 
that  our  English  speech,  in  some  of  the  wisest  men's  judgments,  hath 
never  attained  to  any  sufficient  ripeness,  nay  not  full  avoided  the  re- 
proach of  barbarousness  in  poetry?  "     Although  he  is  proud  that  England 

has  at  last  in  Spenser  "hatched  up  one  poet comparable  with  the 

best,"^  yet  he  deplores  the  general  inferiority  of  Enghsh  poetry  compared 
with  that  of  other  nations,  a  state  of  affairs  which  he  thinks  is  unneces- 
sary. He  sympathizes  with  Spenser's  lament  for  "the  decay  of  poetry 
at  these  days,"  deprecates  the  "enormities"  of  EngUsh  poetry  and  the 
rabble  of  ballads  and  "senseless  sonnets";  and  "by  consent  of  others" 
takes  it  upon  himself  to  appeal  to  lovers  of  the  art  to  "  take  compassion 
of  noble  poetry,  pitifully  mangled  and  defaced  by  rude  smatterers  and 
barbarous  imitators"^  of  their  worthy  studies. 

The  author  of  the  Art  of  English  Poesy  (1589),  presumably  George 
Puttenham,  is  less  in  doubt  than  Webbe  as  to  the  dignity  of  his  subject. 
However,  he  avoids  attaching  his  name  to  his  work;  and  the  printer, 
Richard  Field,  in  dedicating  it  to  Lord  Treasurer  Burleigh  perceives 
"the  title  to  purport  so  slender  a  subject,  as  nothing  almost  could  be 
more  discrepant  from  the  gravity  of  your  years  and  honorable  func- 
tion. "^  The  author  himself,  though  glad  that  English  poetry  is  refined 
from  its  old  "rude  and  homely  manner,"  deplores  the  lack  of  cunning 

»  Smith,  i,  227,  263. 

» Ih.,  229.  Cp.  Ben  Jonson  (Ded.  Volpone,  1607),  who  hopes  in  the  "maturing  o 
some  worthier  fruits"  to  "raise  the  despised  head  of  poetry  again,  and  stripping  her  o 
those  rotten  and  base  rags  wherewith  the  times  have  adulterated  her  form,  restore  her 
to  her  primitive  habit,  feature,  and  majesty,  and  render  her  worthy  to  be  embraced 
and  kist  of  all  the  great  master  spirits  of  our  world. " 

'  Smith,  ii,  2. 


4  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

poets  among  noblemen  and  gentlemen.  Moreover,  the  abasement  of 
the  art  is  daily  seen  and,  compared  with  "old  time,"  poets  have  "now 
become  contemptible"  and  objects  of  "scorn  and  ordinary  disgrace."^" 
Poets  and  poesy  "are  despised,  and  the  name  become  of  honorable  infa- 
mous, subject  to  scorn  and  derision,  and  rather  a  reproach  than  a  praise 
to  any  that  useth  it:  for  coimnonly  whoso  is  studious  in  the  art  or  shews 
himself  excellent  in  it,  they  call  him  in  disdain  a  phantastical;  and  a 

light-headed  or  phantastical  man  (by  conversion)  they  call  a  poet 

And  among  men  such  as  be  modest  and  grave,  and  of  little  conversation, 
nor  delighted  in  the  busy  life  and  vain  ridiculous  actions  of  the  popular, 
they  call  him  in  scorn  a  philosopher  or  poet,  as  much  as  to  say  a  phan- 
tastical man,  very  injuriously  (God  wot)."" 

Further  comment  as  to  the  unsatisfactory  state  of  poetry  is  scattered 
through  less  pretentious  pieces  of  criticism.  Sir  John  Harington  in  the 
preface  to  his  translation  of  Orlando  Furioso  (1591)  deprecates  the  dis- 
credit into  which  poetry  has  fallen  and  is  annoyed  that  among  his  friends 
"some  grave  men  misliked  that  I  should  spend  so  much  good  time  on 
such  a  trifling  work  as  they  deemed  a  poem  to  be.  "i-  Richard  Stany- 
hurst,  whose  own  verse  in  his  translation  of  Virgil  is  ridiculed  by  Thomas 
Nash,  scoffs  at  the  "drafty  poetry"  and  "rude  rythming  and  balductum 
ballads  "^^  of  the  time  so  objectionable  to  all  the  literati.  Gabriel  Harvey 
as  a  connoisseur  in  polite  letters  "was  wont  to  jest"  at  the  poetic  at- 
tempts of  some  of  his  contemporaries,  but  he  grows  especially  vehement 

^°  lb.,  16,  21.  "Thou  call'st  me  poet,  as  a  term  of  shame,"  writes  Ben  Jensen — 
Epigrams,  "To  my  Lord  Ignorant." 

"  lb.,  19.  Cf.  "Jack  of  Dover,  his  Quest  or  inquiry,  or  his  Privy  Search  for  the  Ver- 
iest Fool  in  England"  (before  1601).  After  accounts  of  fools  from  many  places  he  con- 
cludes that  the  "  fool  of  all  fools  is  a  poet. "  "There  cannot  be  a  verier  fool  in  the  world 
than  is  a  poet:  for  poets  have  good  wits,  but  cannot  use  them;  great  store  of  mone}^  but 
cannot  keep  it;  and  many  friends  till  they  lose  them,"  etc.     Percy  Soc,  vii,  36. 

HameUus,  in  his  Was  dachte  Shakespeare  uber  Pocsie  (p.  17),  speaking  of  Shakes- 
peare's representation  of  poets,  says:  "Die  Dichter  behandelt  er  in  seinen  Dramen 
nicht  viel  schonender  als  die  Schauspieler.  Von  einem  Dutzend  Dichtern,  die  er  auf- 
treten  lasst,  sind  die  meisten  verhebte,  oft  lacherHche  jUnglinge,  einige  Phantasten 
oder  Theren,  und  der  gescheiteste,  der  Dichter  in  Timen  von  Athen,  ein  Schmeichler 
und  Speichellecker.  Die  Scharfsinnigen  oder  gedankschweren  Bemerkungen,  die  er 
ihnen  bisweilen  in  den  Mund  legt,  zeugen  von  ihrem  geistigen  Werte,  aber  weigen 
kaum  die  Verachtung  auf,  die  er  mit  ihrem  niedrigen  Stande  und  ihrer  sittlichen  Unvvlir- 
de  verbindet. " 

'2  Smith,    ii,    219. 

"  Ded.  Aeneid  (1582),  Smith,  i,  140,  141. 


THE  STATE  OF  POETRY;  CAUSES;  REMEDIES  5 

in  railing  against  the  "barbarous  and  balductum  rimes"  that  disgrace 
the  art  of  poetry.  Having  in  mind  among  others  Thomas  Nash  with 
"his  phantastical  bibble-babbles, "  he  remarks  with  asperity  that  "the 
Muses  shame  to  remember  some  fresh  quaffers  of  Helicon."^*  Nash 
himself  in  his  preface  to  Sidney's  Astrophel  and  Stella  (1591)  declares 
that  before  the  rising  of  Astrophel,  "England's  Sun,"  night  hovered 
over  the  gardens  of  the  Muses,  "while  Ignis  fatuus  and  gross  fatty  flames 
such  as  commonly  arise  out  of  dunghills"  took  occasion  to  wander 
abroad  "and  lead  men  up  and  down  in  a  circle  of  absurdity."  Now 
they  may  put  out  their  rush  candles  and  bequeath  their  "crazed  quater- 
zayns  to  the  chandlers,  "^^  for  a  new  Apollo  has  risen  in  England.  Here, 
notwithstanding  extravagant  phraseology,  as  likewise  in  case  of  E.  K.'s 
enthusiastic  heralding  of  the  new  poet  of  the  Shepherd's  Calendar,  there 
is  almost  a  touch  of  pathos  in  the  exultant  pride  of  the  Englishman  who 
has  high  hopes  that  at  last  the  disgrace  of  English  poetry  may  be  wiped 
out. 

Still  the  complaints  continue.  Dr.  Giles  Fletcher  complains  to  the 
readers  of  his  Licia  (1593)  that  the  age  thinks  "so  basely  of  our  bare 
English,  wherein  thousands  have  travailed  with  such  ill  luck,  that  they 
deem  themselves  barbarous,  and  the  island  barren,  unless  they  have 
borrowed  from  Italy,  Spain,  and  France  their  best  and  choicest  con- 
ceits. "^^  Judicio,  a  character  who  is  made  to  assume  the  office  of 
critic  in  the  Return  from  Parnassus  (1601),  expresses  disgust  at  "slimy 
rimes  as  thick  as  summer  flies  "^^  that  infest  the  London  bookstalls.  In 
a  section  on  poets  in  England's  Parnassus  (1600),  WilHam  Warner  is 
quoted  on  the  unhappy  status  of  devotees  to  poetic  art: 

As  now  by  melancholy  walks  and  threadbare  coats,  we  guess 

At  clients  and  at  poets;  none  work  more,  and  profit  less 

Yet  soothly  nods  to  poets  now,  are  largess,  and  but  lost; 

For  Pallas'  hermits  live  secure,  obscure  in  roofs  embost.^^ 

"  Pierce's  Supererogation  (1593),  Smith,  ii,  274;  cf.  also  253,  261. 

'5  Smith,  ii,  225. 

"  Fuller's  Worthies,  vol.  iii. 

"  Smith,  ii,  399. 

"  Heliconia,  iii,  287.  Cp.  Breton,  A  Dialogue  Full  of  Pith  and  Pleasure  (1603; 
Works,  Grosart,  vi,  15): 

Ant.  Shall  we  speak  of  poetrj'? 

Dina.  What,  ballads?  Why  it  is  grown  to  such  a  pass  that  the  e  is  taken  out,  and  of 
poetry  it  is  called  pottry;  why,  verses  are  so  common  that  they  are  nailed  on  every 
post;  besides,  it  is  a  poor  profession. 


6  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

Thomas  Campion  in  his  Observations  on  the  Art  of  English  Poesy  (1602) 
voices  the  frequent  deprecation  of  the  "years  of  barbarism"^'  of  EngUsh 
poetry;  and  Samuel  Daniel,  his  opponent  in  the  rime  controversy,  de- 
plores the  "divers  discords "-°  that  bring  the  mystery  of  poetry  into 
contempt.  Sir  John  Davies  protests  vehemently  against  the  "bastard 
sonnets"  that  daily  bring  poetry  into  disgrace,  and  parodies  the  fashion 
to  ridicule  it.^^ 

The  critics,  it  is  clear,  being  earnestly  concerned  about  the  con- 
temporary state  of  poetry  in  England,  are  agreed  that  the  art  has  fallen 
into  disrepute.  They  are  deeply  troubled  at  this  and  in  humiliation 
acknowledge  that  the  contempt  of  poetry  is  not  undeserved,  that  the  art 
is  really  degraded,  mangled,  and  disgraced,  and  that,  in  view  of  the 
whole  situation,  poets  of  a  high  order  represented  in  print  are  lamentably 
rare.  But  participating  as  they  do  in  the  optimism  of  the  period,  the 
critics  are  not  discouraged,  and  their  complaints  are  easily  overbalanced 
by  activity  in  another  direction;  they  set  themselves  hopefully  to  the 
task  of  discovering  causes  and  furnishing  remedies. 

II.  Causes 

/.  The  Puritan  Opposition 

Puritanism  is  not  generally  recognized  by  Elizabethan  critics  as  a 
serious  menace  to  poetry,  nor  is  puritanism  held  responsible  by  these 
critics  as  a  prominent  cause  for  the  contempt  of  poetry.  The  idea  that 
such  is  the  case  seems  to  have  gained  foothold  through  exaggeration  of 
the  importance  of  Gosson's  "pleasant  invective"  in  his  School  of  Abuse, 
and  in  general  through  the  confused  application  to  non-dramatic  poetry 
of  attacks  on  the  drama.  Gosson  in  one  place,  to  be  sure,  gives  a  very 
black  aspect  to  the  art  of  poetry,  making  it  lead  to  Satan,  though 
through  several  stages:  poetry  advances  "you  to  piping,  from  piping  to 
playing,  from  play  to  pleasure,  from  pleasure  to  sloth,  from  sloth  to 
sleep,  from  sleep  to  sin,  from  sin  to  death,  from  death  to  the  divil.  "^ 
The  major  part  of  his  book,  however,  is  devoted  to  plays  and  players, 
his  chief  concern  with  respect  to  poetry  being  to  reprehend  the  abuses 
that  "in  theaters  escape  the  poet's  pen."     Indeed  he  tells  his  readers 

'9  Smith,  ii,  332. 
^^  Musophiliis,  Works,  i,  227. 
''  Cf.  Cambridge  History,  iii,  305. 
^  School  of  Abuse,  Arber,  p.  24. 


THE   STATE   OF  POETRY;   CAUSES;   REMEDIES  7 

plainly  that  he  sets  his  ideas  down  "not to  condemn  the  gifts  of 

versifying,  dancing  or  singing,"  even  "in  women,  so  they  be  used  with 
mean,  and  exercised  in  due  time.  "^ 

Thomas  Lodge,  in  taking  it  upon  himself  to  reply  to  Gosson's  attack, 
attaches  more  importance  to  the  menace  of  puritanism  than  does  any 
other  critic,  manifesting  some  anxiety  before  the  "new  set  of  stoics," 
raised  up  by  Gosson,  "that  can  abide  naught  but  their  own  shadow,  and 
allow  nothing  worthy  but  what  they  conceive."^  But  though  Lodge, 
somewhat  misapprehending  Gosson's  intent  and  taking  the  reformed 
playwright's  "pleasant  invective"  too  seriously,  squandered  his  slender 
talent  on  what  has  been  termed  an  "unreal  defense";  yet  even  he,  turn- 
ing from  puritanism,  discerns  a  greater  menace  to  the  welfare  of  poetry 
in  "the  abuse  which  many  ill  writers  color  by  it,"'*  wherein,  without 
realizing  it,  he  is  on  precisely  the  same  ground  with  Gosson.  This  the 
latter  makes  evident  in  his  Apology  of  the  School  of  Abuse  in  his  declara- 
tion that  poets  "think  that  I  banish  poetry,  wherein  they  dream 

He  that  readeth  with  advice  the  book  that  I  wrote,  shall  perceive  that  I 
touch  but  the  abuses."^  In  this  later  work,  however,  Gosson  is  as 
vehement  as  ever  against  the  drama,  to  which  he  again  devotes  his  chief 
attention.^ 

Few  other  critics  are  disturbed  by  puritan  opposition  to  poetry. 
Sir  Philip  Sidney  is  not  bothered  about  puritanism  as  a  menace  to  poetry 
nor  does  he  recognize  a  "puritan  attack"  as  such,  his  main  concern  for 
the  welfare  of  the  art  being  with  respect  to  poet-apes  rather  than  with 
respect  to  puritans.  Differentiating  dramatic  from  non-dramatic 
poetry,  he  gives  such  a  general  condemnation  of  the  contemporary  state 
of  tragedy  and  comedy^  as  would  certainly  meet  the  approval  of  Gosson 
and  other  enemies  of  the  drama. 

The  importance  of  the  so-called  puritan  attack  on  poetry  is  further 
minimized  by  the  comparatively  small  attention  it  receives  from  Nash, 

2  76.,  p.  23,38. 

3  Smith,   i,   64-65. 
*Ib.,    76. 

^  Arber,  p.  65. 

•  The  circumspection  with  which  Lodge  had  entered  upon  the  defense  of  the  drama, 
a  rather  bold  and  unusual  undertaking,  is  of  significance,  indicating  as  it  does  the  diffi- 
culty and  precariousness  of  this  task  as  compared  with  that  of  defending  poetry, — and 
it  is  possible  that  this  part  of  his  refutation  may  account  for  the  suppression  of  his 
pamphlet. 

^  Apology,  Smith,  i,   196. 


8  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

who  of  all  the  critics  is  apparently  the  greatest  hater  of  puritans.  In 
reprehending,  in  his  Anatomy  of  Absurdity  (1589),  the  degradation  of 
poetry  by  "rude  rithmours,"  he  says  that  the  art  also  suffers  in  another 
way  from  the  "senseless  stoical  austerity"  of  those  who  account  "poetry 
impiety  and  wit  folly."  Such  men,  he  declares,  "condemn  them  of 
lasciviousness,  vanity,  and  curiosity,  who  under  feigned  stories  include 
many  profitable  moral  precepts."  And  in  this  "their  preciser  censure 
they  resemble  them  that  cast  away  the  nut  for  mislike  of  the  shell.  "^ 
He  makes  another  charge,  mildly  and  tentatively,  against  puritanical 
opposition  to  poetry  in  his  preface  to  Greene's  Menaphon  (1589)  where 
he  advances  the  idea  that  the  swarms  of  "epitaphers  and  position 
poets,"  who  "fly  like  swallows  in  the  winter  from  any  continuate  subject 
of  wit,"  may  possibly  be  due  to  the  "upstart  discipline  of  our  reforma- 
tory churchmen,  who  account  wit  vanity,  and  poetry  impiety."^  In 
his  Pierce  Penniless  (1592)  he  has  a  "bout"  with  "some  dull-headed 
divines"  by  whom  he  himself  has  been  censured  and  "who  deem  it  no 
more  cunning  to  write  an  exquisite  poem  than  to  preach  pure  Calvin,  or 
distill  the  juice  of  a  commentary  in  a  quarter  sermon";  but  against  such 
he  sets  with  praises  divines  "that  have  tasted  the  sweep  springs  of 
Parnassus,"  as  "silver-tongued  Smith,  whose  well  turned  style  hath 
made  thy  death  the  general  tears  of  the  Muses.  "^''  Indeed,  Nash's 
findings  against  the  puritans  are  moderate  and  sparing — as  will  be 
noted  later — compared  with  his  imputations  against  the  "abusive 
enormities"  of  the  "ravenous  rabble""  of  versifiers  in  whom  he,  like 
Sidney,  sees  the  arch-enemies  of  poetry. 

Francis  Meres  remarks  in  his  Palladis  Taniia  (1598)  that  "puritans 
and  precisians  detest  poetry  and  poems.  "^"  The  general  view  of  the 
critics,  however,  is  perhaps  best  summed  up  by  Sir  John  Harington, 
himself  a  defender  of  poetry,  who,  in  the  preface  to  his  Orlando  Furioso, 

8  Smith,   i,   330. 

"76.,  316. 

"  Works,  McKerrow,  i,  192-193.  Giles  Fletcher  (Epist.  Ded.  to  Licia,  or  Poems  of 
Love,  1593),  in  defending  particularly  the  writing  of  love  poetry,  says  that  "two  reasons 
hath  made  it  a  thing  fooHshly  odious  in  this  age.  The  one,  that  so  many  base  compan- 
ions are  the  greatest  writers.  The  other,  that  our  English  Genevian  purity  hath  quite 
debarred  us  of  honest  recreation:  yet  the  great  Pillar,  as  they  make  him  [i.  e.  Jean 
Calvin],  of  that  cause  hath  shewed  us  as  much  wit  and  learning  in  this  kind  as  any 
other  before  or  since." 

»  Smith,  i,  334. 

"  Smith,  ii,  310. 


THE   STATE   OF   POETRY;   CAUSES;   REMEDIES  9 

declares  that  "  those  that  condemn  all  poetry I  count  but  a  very 

weak  faction.  "^^ 

In  fact,  the  conclusion  seems  warranted  that  the  menace  of  puritan- 
ism,  so  far  as  it  concerns  non-dramatic  poetry,  has  been  over-estimated. 
Gosson  himself,  to  whom  the  so-called  attack  has  been  chiefly  ascribed, 
denies  any  intention  of  banishing  poetry  or  of  doing  more  than  to  "  touch  " 
the  abuses.     The  real  attitude  of  the  puritans  toward  non-dramatic 
poetry  is  doubtless  well  exemplified  in  William  Vaughan,  himself  a 
puritanical  character.     In  his  moralistic  book,  The  Golden  Grove  (1600), 
he  appears  in  one  chapter  as  a  prosecutor  in  "a  diatribe  against  plays  as 
mere  folly  and  wickedness";  yet,  in  another  chapter,  "Of  Poetry,  and 
the  excellency  thereof,"  he  stands  forth  as  an  ardent  defender  of  this 
art.     Moreover,  according  to  his  experience  the  defamers  of  poetry  are 
not  puritans,  but  abusers  of  puritans.     "Sundry  times,"  he  says,  "have 
I  been  conversant  with  such  as  blasphemed  poetry,  by  calling  it  mincing 
and  lying  poetry.     But  it  is  no  marvel  that  they  thus  deride  poetry,  sith 
they  stick  not  in  this  out-worn  age  to  abuse  the  ministers  of  God  by 
terming  them  bookish  fellows  and  puritans,  they  themselves  knowing 
not  what  they  mean."     Indeed,  the  attitude  of  Vaughan,  who  supports 
puritans,  is  closely  parallel  to  that  of  Nash,  who  hates  them,  as  is  shown 
in  the  former's  conclusion  "that  many  of  our  English  rimers  and  ballet- 
makers  deserve  for  their  bawdy  sonnets  and  amorous  allurements  to  be 
banished,   or  severely  punished:  and   that  poetry  itself  ought   to  be 
honored  and  made  much  of ,  as  a  precious  jewel  and  divine  gift.  "^*    A 
similar  point  of  view  is  indicated  in  a  work  "Hcensed  in  January,  1600, 
which  professed  to  be  *a  commendation  of  true  poetry  and  a  discom- 
mendation of  all    bawdy,  ribald,  and  paganized  poets.' "^^    Puritanism, 
it  is  evident,  was  not  regarded  by  the  critics  of  this  period  as  seriously 
threatening  non-dramatic  poetry,   nor  did   they  in  any   conside  able 
measure  hold  puritans  responsible  for  the  discredit  into  which  the  art 
had  fallen. 

2.  The  Rakehelly  Rout 

The  chief  cause  for  the  debasement  of  poetry,  in  the  minds  of  Eliza- 
bethan critics,  was  to  be  found  in  the  extensive  and  growing  participation 

"  Ih.,  195.  Cp.  Isaac  Watts  (Pref.  Horae  Lyricae,  1706):  "This  profanation  and  de- 
basement of  so  divine  an  art  has  tempted  some  weaker  Christians  to  imagine  that 
poetry  and  vice  are  naturally  akin. " 

'*  Smith,  ii,  326. 

"  Spingam,  Lit.  Crit.,  p.  267. 


10  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

in  the  art  of  a  multitude  of  low  rimesters  or  "poet-apes,"  as  Sidney 
terms  them.  The  problem  involved  in  the  invasion  of  the  field  of  poetry 
by  this  horde  of  versifiers,  who  by  their  persistent  and  exasperating 
activity  menaced  the  very  life  of  the  art,  was  to  the  critics  a  problem  of 
tremendous  concern  and  one  that  largely  occupied  their  thought  and 
energy  and  influenced  the  character  of  their  criticism. 

Although  the  rabble  of  versifiers  doubtless  deserved  all  the  oppro- 
brium heaped  upon  them  by  the  critics,  they  possessed  a  certain  warrant 
of  precedent,  the  evil  that  they  represented  being  somewhat  grounded  in 
the  activity  of  an  earlier  generation.  Henry  VIII,  it  seems,  not  limiting 
his  poetic  patronage  to  the  courtly  makers,  gave  recognition  and  encour- 
agement to  poets  of  a  lower  order.  Even  the  most  "pregnant  wits"  in 
his  time,  we  are  told,  were  producing  work  of  a  quality  condemned  by 
the  standard  of  later  critics,  "ballads  and  other  matters  not  worth  a 
mite.  "^^  The  king  himself  gave  impetus  to  the  mania  for  versifying  by 
occasionally  writing  a  sonnet,  and  by  his  habit  during  his  progresses  of 
exercising  himself  daily  in  singing,  playing,  and  "setting  of  songs,  and 
making  of  ballads.""  Puttenham  says  that  William  Gray,  the  author 
of  several  broadsides,  grew  into  "good  estimation"  with  the  king,  "and 
afterward  with  the  Duke  of  Somerset,  Protector,  for  making  certain 
merry  ballads,  whereof  one  chiefly  was  The  hunt  is  up,  the  hunt  is  up."^^ 
The  poetic  zeal  of  the  time,  further  stimulated  by  mercenary  motives, 
soon  overdid  itself,  however,  and  activity  in  the  lower  sort  of  poetry 
became  objectionable,  Henry  himself  suppressing  it  wholesale  when  it 
interfered  with  his  policies.^^ 

A  specimen  passage  from  a  production  of  a  somewhat  later  date, 
itself  a  ballad  of  poetic  criticism,  certainly  does  not  speak  highly  for  the 
general  average  of  the  popular  English  versifiers. 

1'  Cambridge  History,  iii,  108 

"  Chappell,  Popular  Mtisic  of  the  Olden  time,  i,  p.  50.  Cf.  Chappell's  "Account  of 
an  unpublished  Collection  of  Songs  and  Ballads  of  King  Henry  VIII  and  His  Con- 
temporaries"; in  Archaeologia,  xli,  part  ii,  p.  371. 

■8  Smith,   ii,    17. 

'^  Chappell,  op.  cit.,  i,  p.  53.  A  proclamation  was  issued  in  1533  to  suppress  "fond 
books,  ballads,  rimes,  and  other  lewd  treatises  in  the  English  tongue."  An  act  of 
parliament  was  passed  in  1543  prohibiting  the  circulation  of  "printed  ballads,  plays, 
rimes,  songs  and  other  fantasies,"  an  exception  being  made  in  favor  of  the  works  of 
Chaucer;  and,  "at  the  beginning  of  Mary's  reign,  an  edict  was  made  against  'books, 
ballads,  rimes  and  treatises'  which  had  been  'set  out  by  printers  and  stationers,  of  an 
evil  zeal  for  lucre  and  covetous  of  vile  gain'"  {Cambridge  History,  iii,  108). 


THE   STATE   OF   POETRY;   CAUSES;   REMEDIES  11 

"Your  ballads  of  love,  not  worth  a  bean, 
A  number  there  be,  although  not  all; 
Some  be  pithy,  some  weak,  some  lean. 
Some  do  run  as  round  as  a  ball; 
Some  verses  have  such  a  pleasant  fall, 
That  pleasure  it  is  for  any  man. 
Whether  his  knowledge  be  great  or  small. 

So  that  of  a  verse  some  skill  he  can 

But  some  if  ye  take  in  hand  to  scan 

They  lack  their  grace,  they  lack  good  sense.  "^^ 

And  the  ballading  critic  goes  on  to  exhort  the  printer  not  to  "open  a 
gate"  to  the  inferior  kind. 

At  the  critical  awakening  in  the  early  part  of  the  reign  of  Elizabeth, 
men  of  letters  gradually  became  possessed  of  the  idea  that  all  was  not 
well  with  poetry,  and  that  the  great  menace  to  the  art  lay  in  its  perver- 
sion and  degradation  by  incapable  practitioners.  Ascham,  reprobating 
the  intrusion  and  rash  presumption  of  such  men,  complains  that  the 
shops  of  London  are  full  of  their  "lewd  and  rude  rimes";  not  the  most 
capable  "but  now  the  ripest  of  tongue  be  readiest  to  write, "^^  many 
"rash  ignorant  heads"  daily  putting  forth  their  books  and  ballads  with 
demoralizing  effects  on  poetry.  George  Whetstone,  though  with 
comedy  chiefly  in  mind,  laments  that  "the  advised  devices  of  ancient 
poets,  discredited  with  trifles  of  young,  unadvised,  and  rash  witted 
writers,  hath  brought  this  commendable  exercise  into  mislike.  "^^  Lodge, 
in  his  reply  to  Gosson,  who  had  himself  railed  against  the  "infinite  poets 
and  pipers,  and  such  peevish  cattle  among  us  in  England,  "^^  declares 
that  poetry  is  dispraised  not  for  itself,  but  for  the  abuse  it  suffers  in  the 
hands  of  ill  writers,  for  "those  odd  rimes  which  runs  in  every  rascal's 
mouth"  and  "those  foohsh  ballets  that  are  admitted. "^^ 

In  introducing  the  "new  poet"  of  the  Shepherd's  Calendar,  E.  K. 
complains  that  "most  English  writers  useth  to  be  loose,  and  as  it  were 
ungirt,"  and  in  view  of  Spenser's  superiority  over  these  he  scorns  and 
spews  out  "  the  rakehelly  rout  of  our  ragged  rimers, "  who  "  without  judg- 
ment jangle,  without  reason  rage  and  foam."'^    He  further  takes  pains 

^"  Jos.  Lilly's  Black  Letter  Ballads  and  Broadsides,  p.  206. 

=»  Smith,  i,  31. 

'^'^  Ded.  Promos  and  Cassandra  (1578),  Smith,  i,  59. 

^^  School  of  Abuse,  Arber,  p.  27. 

2"  Smith,  i,  76. 

=«Epist.  Ded.,  Smith,  i,  131. 


12  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

to  explain  Spenser's  line  in  the  eclogue  in  complaint  "of  the  contempt  of 
poetry," 

"Tom  Piper  makes  us  better  melody," 
as  "an  ironical  sarcasmus,  spoken  in  derision  of  these  rude  wits,  which 
make  more  account  of  a  riming  ribald,  than  of  skill  grounded  upon 
learning  and  judgment.  "^^  Spenser  himself  in  his  Tears  of  the  Muses 
still  more  severely  denounces  the  debasers  of  poetry,  bitterly  deprecating 
the  participation  in  the  art, 

Of  the  base  vulgar  that  with  hands  unclean 

Dares  to  pollute  her  hidden  mystery: 

And  treadeth  under  foot  her  holy  things. 

Which  was  the  care  of  kaisers  and  of  kings. 
An  ignorant  and  brutish  rout  has  invaded  the  chaste  bowers  of  the 
Muses  and  stained   them  with  beastly  filth.     The  sacred  springs  of 
HeUcon, 

So  oft  bedewed  with  our  learned  lays 

They  trampled  have  with  their  foul  footings  trade. 

And  like  to  troubled  puddles  have  them  made. 
The  Muses'  royal  thrones,  which  lately  ruled  the  hearts  of  men,  have 
been  rudely  usurped  by  the  accursed  brood  of  Ignorance,  and 

They  to  the  vulgar  sort  now  pipe  and  sing. 

And  make  them  merry  with  their  fooleries 

They  feed  the  ears  of  fools  with  flattery, 

And  good  men  blame  and  losels  magnify 

So  everywhere  they  rule  and  tyrannize. 

For  their  usurped  kingdom's  maintenance, 

The  whiles  we  silly  maids,  whom  they  despise. 

And  with  reproachful  scorn  discountenance. 

From  our  own  native  heritage  exiled. 

Walk  through  the  world  of  everyone  reviled. 
This  usurpation  is  especially  demoralizing  in  the  poetry  of  love: 

Such  high  conceit  of  that  celestial  fire. 

The  base-born  brood  of  blindness  cannot  guess, 

Never  dare  their  dunghill  thoughts  aspire 

Unto  so  lofty  pitch  of  perfectness. 

But  rime  at  riot,  and  do  rage  in  love; 

Yet  little  wot  what  doth  thereto  behoove. 

=•  Spenser's  Works,  Globe  ed.,  p.  479. 


THE   STATE   OF  POETRY;   CAUSES;   REMEDIES  13 

"Each  idle  wit,"  the  poet  declares,  "at  will  presumes  to  make,"  and 
such  men,  who  "dare  their  follies  forth  so  rashly  throw,"  not  only  de- 
grade poetry  but  also  deter  real  poets  from  exercising  their  talents 
publicly  because  of  such  base  company. 

The  intrusions  of  the  rabble  of  rimesters  are  particularly  offensive  to 
Gabriel  Harvey,  who  does  not  scruple  to  call  out  the  names  of  the  worst 
offenders,  from  whom  he  desires  immeasurable  separation.  For  instance, 
he  professes  extreme  indignation  at  being  thrust  into  print  in  his  "ex- 
temporal  faculty  and  to  play  Wilson's  or  Tarlton's  part"  or  "be  M. 
Churchyard's  and  M.  Elderton's  successors  too,  and  finally  chronicled 
for  one  of  the  most  notorious  ballat  makers  and  Christmas  carolers  in  the 
time  of  her  Majesty's  reign.  "^^  Stanyhurst,  whose  own  poetical  ability 
like  Harvey's  was  questioned  by  his  contemporaries,  likewise  inveighs 
against  the  invading  host  of  aspiring  poets.  "What  Tom  Towly,"  he 
inquires  with  asperity,  "is  so  simple  that  will  not  attempt  to  be  a  rith- 
mour?"  and  he  attempts  to  discredit  and  discourage  the  ''divers  scaven- 
gers of  drafty  poetry"  by  quoting  some  of  their  absurd  lines  on  the 
praise  of  a  dagger,  or  on  the  commendation  of  bacon.  "Good  God," 
he  exclaims,  "what  a  fry  of  such  wooden  rythmours  doth  swarm  in 
stationers'  shops!"  and  he  exhorts  the  learned  to  bestir  themselves  "to 
flap  these  drones  from  the  sweet  scenting  hives  of  poetry.  "^^ 

Sir  Philip  Sidney,  answering  his  own  inquiry  "why  England 

should  be  grown  so  hard  a  step-mother  to  poets"  and  why  poetry  has 
been  "thrown  down  to  so  ridiculous  an  estimation, "-^  adds  his  testimony 
to  that  of  the  other  critics  by  attributing  the  degraded  state  of  the  art 
to  the  work  of  "profane  wits"  who  abuse  it,  the  swarms  of  "versifiers 
that  need  never  answer  to  the  name  of  poets.  "^^  Some  distinction  per- 
haps might  be  made  between  the  contempt  of  some  members  of  the 
upper  classes  for  all  poetry  and  the  humanists'  scorn  for  popular  poetry. 
But  Sidney  shows  that  the  general  cause  for  animadversion  is  in  both 
cases  the  same.  The  fundamental  cause  for  the  evil  condition  of  poetry 
is  that  "base  men  with  servile  wits  undertake  it:  who  think  it  enough 
if  they  can  be  rewarded  of  the  printer."  Such  men  "no  more  but  set- 
ting their  name  to  it,  by  their  own  disgracefulness  disgrace  most  graceful 
poesy.     For  now,  as  if  the  muses  were  got  with  child,  to  bring  forth 

"  Letter-Book,  Smith,  i,  124,  125. 
^'  Ded.  Transl.  Aeneid,  Smith,  i,  141. 
2»  Apology,  Smith,  i,  155,  193. 
^'>Ib.     160,   206. 


14  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

bastard  poets,  without  any  commission  they  do  post  over  the  banks  of 
HeUcon,  till  they  make  the  readers  more  weary  than  post-horses." 
Graciously  including  himself  with  the  other  "  paper-blurrers, "  Sir 
Philip  finds  that  "the  very  true  cause  of  our  wanting  of  estimation  is 
want  of  desert;  taking  upon  us  to  be  poets  in  despite  of  Pallas.  "^^  Again 
he  puts  his  conclusion  of  the  whole  matter  concisely,  "  the  cause  why  it  is 
not  esteemed  in  England  is  the  fault  of  poet-apes,  not  poets." 

Webbe  states  that  among  the  innumerable  books  and  "infinite 
fardels"  of  pamphlets  with  which  England  "is  pestered"  and  "all  shops 

stuffed"  the  greatest  part  are  "poetical"  or  "tend  in  some  respect 

to  poetry. "  But  he  regrets  to  find  that  for  the  most  part  poetry  is  left 
to  the  mercy  of  ignorant  men  who  run  headlong  upon  it,  "thinking  to 
garnish  it  with  their  devices,  but  more  corrupting  it  with  fantastical 
errors. "^^  In  giving  his  account  of  the  English  poets  he  lets  "pass  the 
uncountable  rabble  of  riming  ballat  makers  and  compilers  of  senseless 
sonnets,  who  be  most  busy  to  stuff  every  stall  full  of  gross  devices  and 
unlearned  pamphlets."  "If  these  might  be  accounted  poets,"  he 
declares,  "surely  we  shall  shortly  have  whole  swarms  of  poets."  He 
ends  his  own  invective  against  them  by  quoting  E.  K.'s  animadversion 
on  "the  rakehelly  rout,"  he  himself,  desiring  not  to  be  "too  broad  with 
them,"  though  all  through  there  rankles  in  his  breast  the  feeling  that 
"noble  poetry  is  pitifully  mangled  and  defaced  by  rude  smatterers  and 
barbarous  imitators  of worthy  studies.  "^^ 

Nash,  who  in  his  Anatomy  of  Absurdity  pays  his  respects  to  abuses  in 
general,  is  of  all  the  critics  the  most  vehement  in  denouncing  the  per- 
verters  of  poetry.  The  "impudent  pubHshing  of  witless  vanity"  and  the 
depredations  of  "ignorant  artificers"  are  to  him  much  more  offensive 
than  the  "stoical  austerity"  of  puritanism.  Indeed  he  is  for  taking  se- 
vere measures  against  the  ignorant,  babbling  versifiers  who  "obtain  the 
name  of  our  English  poets,  and  thereby  make  men  think  more  basely  of 
the  wits  of  our  country,"  and  he  deems  it  desirable  that  their  works 
"were  by  public  edict  prohibited."  These  "rude  rithmours  with  their 
jarring  verse"  have  so  defaced  poetry  that  they  "alienate  all  men's 
minds  from  delighting  in  numbers'  excellence."  Stainers  of  art  as  they 
are,  their  works  breed  detestation  for  poetry  and  make  the  learned  silent 
when  "they  see  unlearned  sots  so  insolent."     Nash  pleads  for  the  sup- 

»i/6.,  195,  205. 

'^  Discourse,  Smith,  i,  226,  227. 

33  lb.,  229,  246-7. 


THE  STATE  OF  POETRY;  CAUSES;  REMEDIES  15 

pression  of  this  "ravenous  rabble"  and  has  much  more  to  say  against 
their  "abusive  enormities,"  all  of  which  he  speaks  "to  shew  what  an 
obloquy  these  impudent  incipients  in  arts  are  unto  art.  "^*  In  his 
preface  to  Greene's  Menaphon,  he  further  inveighs  against  these  devas- 
taters  of  poetry,  promising  his  readers  to  "  persecute  those  idiots  and 
their  heirs  unto  the  third  generation,  that  have  made  art  bankrupt  of 
her  ornaments,  and  sent  poetry  a  begging  up  and  down  the  country.  "^^ 
Shorter  comment  in  reprobation  of  low  and  rude  versifiers  is  to  be 
found  in  many  other  writers  of  the  period.  Among  others,  Puttenham, 
the  self-appointed  courtier  critic,  shows  contempt  for  the  rude  fits  of 
mirth  of  the  "tavern  minstrels"  with  their  "old  romances"  made  for 
the  "recreation  of  the  common  people  at  Christmas  dinners  and  brideales, 
and  in  taverns  and  alehouses,  and  such  other  places  of  base  resort."^® 
In  the  work  of  the  courtly  maker  all  such  crudeness  must  be  banished 
utterly.  Sir  John  Harington  likewise  refers  with  scorn  to  the  "base 
rimer  and  ballad-maker"  of  the  time,  and  deprecates  the  rash  abuse  of 
poetry  "by  profane  wits,  in  whom  science  is  corrupted,  like  good  wine  in 
a  bad  vessel.""  Giles  Fletcher,  in  his  Epistle  Dedicatory  to  Licia 
(1593),  declares  that  one  reason  why  poetry  is  so  "foolishly  odious  in 
this  age"  is  that  "so  many  base  companions  are  the  greatest  writers." 
A  vigorous  protest  comes  a  Httle  later  from  Sir  John  Davies,  who  in- 
veighs against  "bastard  sonnets"  and  the  work  of  "base  rimers"  daily 
begot  "to  their  own  shame  and  poetry's  disgrace. "^^  Nicholas  Breton 
in   PasquiVs   Madcap    (1600)    satirically    "advised    'prose    writers'   to 

^  Anatomy  of  Absurdity,  Smith,  i,  327,  328,  334.  "Every  balductum  makes  divine 
poetry  to  be  but  base  rime,"  complains  the  author  of  Polimanteia,  Pref.  to  the  Reader. 
Cp.  "Epigrams,"  by  I.  C.  {New  Shakespeare  Soc.  [1874],  p.  122): 

These  fellows  are  the  slanderers  of  the  time, 
Make  riming  hateful  through  their  bastard  rime. 
But  were  I  made  a  judge  in  poetry. 
They  all  should  burn  for  their  wild  heresy. 

Bishop  Hall  {Virgidemiarum,  Bk.  I,  Satire  VIII)  attacks  literary  pretenders  partici- 
pating in  the  vogue  of  writing  reUgious  poetry: 

Hence  ye  profane!  mell  not  with  holy  things 
That  Zion's  Muse  from  Palestina  brings. 

^  Smith,  i,  320. 

'•  Art  of  English  Poetry,  Smith,  i,  87. 

"  Pref.  Orlatido  Furioso,  Smith,  ii,  197,  203. 

^  Cambridge  History,  iii,  305. 


16  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

change  their  occupation,  in  consequence  of  the  greater  success  of  the 
authors   of    'penny   ballads.' "^^ 

The  havoc  wrought  by  the  rimesters  is  especially  deplored  by  Henry 
Chettle,  who,  in  the  dedication  of  his  Kind-Heart's  Dream  (1592),  de- 
clares that  "such  is  the  folly  of  this  age,  so  witless,  so  audacious,  that 
there  are  scarce  so  many  peddlers  brag  themselves  to  be  printers  be- 
cause they  have  a  bundle  of  ballads  in  their  pack,  as  there  be  idiots  that 
think  themselves  artists  because  they  can  English  an  obligation,  or 
write  a  true  staff  to  the  tune  of  fortune."^"  He  lashes  especially  broad- 
side balladists,  and  presumably  ridicules  Anthony  Munday  as  an  adviser 
to  the  "arch-overseers  of  the  ballad  singers,"''^  who  chant  their  absurdi- 
ties   in    every    street. 

The  contemptuous  complaints  of  the  critics  against  the  low  rimesters 
are  seconded  by  the  dramatists.  Chappell  gives  a  page  of  quotations^ 
from  them,  showing  their  antagonism  to  the  plethora  of  rude  versifying. 
Moreover,  the  abuse  as  reported  in  such  general  accounts  as  that  of 
Chettle  is  vividly  represented  in  the  concrete  on  the  stage, — for  example, 
by  Shakespeare  in  his  Winter's  Tale  and  by  Ben  Jonson  in  Bartholomew 
Fair.  Shakespeare  also  makes  Falstaff  threaten  Prince  Hal  and  his 
companions  with  the  dire  vengeance  of  having  ballads  made  on  them;^ 
and  Cleopatra  dreads  lest  "scald  rimers  ballad  us  out  o'  tune. "^  Bal- 
lading  is  further  turned  to  ridicule  in  Midsummer  Night's  Dream,  and 
the  mania  for  versifying  is  laughed  at  in  Love's  Labor's  Lost. 

The  degradation  of  poetry  by  the  invading  hosts  of  versifiers  is  re- 
garded as  a  vexatious  problem  by  Bishop  Hall,  who  in  his  Martin 
Mar-sixtus  (1592)  confesses,  "I  loath  to  speak  it,  every  red-nosed 
rimester  is  an  author;  every  drunken  man's  dream  is  a  book;  and  he, 
whose  talent  of  little  wit  is  hardly  worth  a  farthing,  yet  layeth  about 
him  so  outrageously  as  if  all  Helicon  had  run  through  his  pen:  in  a  word, 
scarce  a  cat  can  look  out  of  a  gutter,  but  out  starts  a  halfpenny  chron- 
icler, and  presently  a  proper  new  ballet  of  a  strange  sight  is  indited.  "^^ 
The  abuse  of  poetry  is  further  exhibited  by  Hall  in  his  Satires  (1597); 
for  example: 

''  Collier,  J.  P.,  Roxburghe  Ballads,  p.  xxii. 

*"  Percy  Soc,  v,  p.  vii. 

"  lb.,  p.  63. 

*-  Popular  Music,  i,  253. 

«  I  Henry  IV,  II,  ii,  48.     Cf.  also  II  Henry  IV,  iii,  49. 

**  Antony  and  Cleopqtra,  V,  ii,  215. 

*^  Chappell,  Popular  Music,  ii,  106. 


and: 


THE   STATE   OF   POETRY;   CAUSES;   REMEDIES  17 

Should  Bondell's  throstle  die  without  a  song, 
Or  Adamans  my  dog  be  laid  along 
Down  in  some  ditch,  without  his  obsequies, 
Or  epitaphs  or  mournful  elegies? 

Some  drunken  rimer  thinks  his  time  well  spent, 
If  he  can  live  to  see  his  name  in  print ; 
Who,  when  he  once  is  fleshed  to  the  press. 
And  sees  his  handsell  have  such  fair  success. 
Sung  to  the  wheel  and  sung  unto  the  pail. 
He  sends  forth  thraves  of  ballads  to  the  sale.^® 

Samuel  Daniel  in  his  Musophilus  (1602)  deplores  the  ill  consequences 
of  the  extensive  participation  of  inferior  writers  in  poetic  composition, 
though  taking  the  attitude  of  Ben  Jonson  rather  than  that  of  earlier 
court  poets,  he  believes  that  instead  of  giving  up  the  field  to  the  rime- 
sters,  poets  of  a  higher  order  should  enter  in  and  sing  the  louder: 

Besides,  so  many  so  confusedly  sing. 
Whose  divers  discords  have  the  music  mar'd, 
And  in  contempt  that  mystery  doth  bring. 
That  he  must  sing  aloud  that  will  be  heard.^'' 

Although  Daniel  does  not  countenance  these  inferior  practitioners,  he 
takes,  compared  with  the  other  critics,  a  remarkably  broad  and  philo- 
sophic view,  considering  it  impossible  and  perhaps  unnecessary  to 
suppress  them,  for  "this  multitude  of  idle  writers  can  be  no  disgrace  to 

the   good the    same   unmeasurable   confluence   of   scribblers" 

existed  "among  the  Romans"  and  "their  plenty  seems  to  have  bred  the 
same  waste  and  contempt  as  ours  doth  now."**  However,  he  looks 
forward  optimistically  to  the  time  whem  poetry  will  be 

Cleared  from  th'oppressing  humors  wherewithal 
The  idle  multitude  surcharge  their  lays.*^ 

^  Warton,  History  Eng.  Poetry,  iv,  371,  373.  One  of  the  versifiers  of  the  period 
in  injured  innocence  apparently  anticipating  criticism,  prefixes  the  following  couplet 
to  his  ballad  (Gummere,  Old  English  Ballads,  p.  xxiv) : 

I  know  no  reason  but  that  this  harmless  riddle 
May  as  well  be  printed  as  sung  to  a  fiddle. 

«  Works,  i,  227. 

«  Defense  of  Rime  (?1603),  Smith,  ii,  363-4. 

*^  Musophilus,  Works,  i,  231. 


18  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

The  remarkable  poetical  activity  of  a  low  order  so  of  ten  deplored  by 
contemporary  critics  and]  other  writers,  is  marveled  at  by  later  literary 
historians.  Chappcll,  citing  Dr.  Drake's  list  (in  his  Shakespeare  and 
his  Times)  "of  two  hundred  and  thirty-three  British  poets  (forty  major, 
and  one  hundred  and  ninety- three  minor),  who  were  contemporaries 
with  Shakespeare,"  declares  that  "even  that  list,  large  as  it  is,  might  be 
greatly  extended  from  miscellanies  and  from  ballads."^"  Joseph  Lilly  is 
"astonished  at  the  great  number  of  ballads,  which,  from  the  opening 

were  licensed  for  publication During  the  first  ten  years  of  the 

reign  of  Elizabeth,  the  names  of  about  forty  printers  from  whose  presses 
ballads  were  issued  appear  in  the  registers  of  the  Stationers'  Company.  "^^ 
Commenting  on  this  same  kind  of  activity,  Chappell  says  that  "some 
idea  of  the  number  of  ballads  that  were  printed  in  the  early  part  of  the 
reign  of  Elizabeth  may  be  formed  from  the  fact  that  796  ballads,  left 
for  entry  at  the  Stationers'  Hall,  remained  in  the  cupboard  of  the  council 
chamber  of  the  company  at  the  end  of  the  year  1560,  to  be  transferred  to 
the  new  wardens,  and  only  forty-four  books.  "^^  The  vogue  of  these 
popular  versifiers  continued  and  increased,  "page  after  page  in  the 
Stationers'  books"  being  "thick  dotted,  throughout  the  reign,  with 
entries  of  their  works,  Richard  Jones  registering,  for  instance,  in  1586, 
one  hundred  and  twenty-three  ballads  at  once.  "^^ 

The  critics  of  this  period  evidently  were  agreed  that  the  great  force 
working  to  the  detriment  1  poetry  was  to  be  found  in  those  who  abused 
it.^    Their  battle  of  defense  was  largely  against  an  invading  host  of 

^Popular  Music,   i,    105. 

"  Black  Letter  Ballads,  Introd.,  pp.  x,  xi. 

^"^  Popular    Music,    ii,    105. 

"  Jusserand,  Literary  History,  ii,  405.  George  Wither  {ScJiolars'  Purgatory, 
1635)  complained  that  the  stationers'  warehouses  contained  thousands  of  "vain  songs 
and    profane    ballads. " 

^*  Ben  Jonson  (Ded.  Volpone,  1607)  says:  "It  being  an  age  wherein  poetry  and 
the  professors  of  it  hear  so  ill  [i.  e.,  are  so  ill  spoken  of]  on  all  sides,  there  will  a  reason 
be  looked  for  in  the  subject.  It  is  certain,  nor  can  with  any  forehead  be  opposed,  that 
the  too  much  license  of  poetasters,  in  this  time,  hath  much  deformed  their  mistress; 
that,  every  day,  their  manifold  and  manifest  ignorance  doth  stick  unnatural 
reproach  upon  her:  but  for  their  petulance,  it  were  an  act  of  the  greatest  injustice, 
either  to  let  the  learned  suffer,  or  so  divine  a  skill   (which  indeed   should   not   be 

attempted  with  unclean  hands)  to  fall  under  the  least   contempt I 

cannot  but  be  serious  in  a  cause  of  this  nature,  wherein  my  fame,  and 
the  reputation  of  divers  honest  and  learned  are  the  question;  when  a  name  so 
full  of  authority,  antiquity,  and  all  great  mark,  is,  through  their  insolence,  become  the 


THE   STATE   OF   POETRY;   CAUSES;   REMEDIES  19 

versifiers,  men  of  inferior  ability  and  often  of  low  character,  whose  work 
tended  to  degrade  and  debase  poetic  art  and  bring  it  into  disrepute.  To 
correct  the  abuse,  to  preserve  poetry  from  the  depredations  of  these 
men,  was  the  problem  that  perhaps  first  of  all  engaged  their  attention 
and  called  forth  their  energies;  indeed  it  was  this  problem  that  in  large 
measure  gave  rise  to  their  critical  writings  on  poetry  and  that  strongly 
influenced  the  character  of  their  criticism.  But  the  abusers  of  poetry, 
ranging  in  quality  from  the  lowest  of  the  ragged  penny  balladists  to  the 
poet-apes  who  mangled  and  perverted  the  elegant  conceits  of  Petrarch, 
all  eagerly  in  quest  of  gain  or  fame,  were  exasperatingly  audacious  and 
persistent  and  hard  to  silence.  For  all  these  camp-followers  of  the 
Renaissance,  whose  voices  in  literature  are  now  for  the  most  part  silent, 
"claimed  a  place  in  the  sunlight"  and  with  their  rubbish  flooded 
the  stalls  of  the  booksellers.  The  printing  press  and  mercenary  prin- 
ters afforded  a  vehicle  for  the  dispersion  of  their  productions  and  the 
great  careless,  undiscriminating  public  accepted  and  enjoyed  all,  from 
the  best  to  the  worst.  Such  were  the  conditions  faced  by  the  critics  and 
to  them  the  task  of  saving  poetry  seemed  indeed  difficult. 

3.  The  Uncapable  Multitude 

Back  of  the  host  of  Elizabethan  versifiers  was  a  vaster  host  of  un- 
cultured, undiscriminating  readers,  and  in  them  the  critics  found  another 
perplexing  hindrance  to  the  welfare  of  poetry. '<^he  people,  they  found, 
shared  in  the  love  of  poetry,  and  by  means  of  the  democratic  institution 
of  printing  their  untrained  taste  was  cheaply  and  abundantly  supplied. 

By  the  time  of  the  beginning  of  Elizabeth's  reign,  various  influences 
had  concurred  to  establish  among  critics  and  men  of  letters  a  higher 
standard  of  taste  than  had  existed  before,  manifestations  of  which  are 
not  wanting.  Tottel,  the  pubhsher  of  the  Miscellany  of  1557,  solicitous 
to  foster  a  taste  for  the  "stateliness  of  style  removed  from  the  rude  skill 
of  common  ears,"  appeals  to  the  learned  to  support  their  learned  friends 
and  exhorts  "  the  unlearned,  by  reading  to  learn  to  be  more  skillful,  and 
to  purge  that  swine-like  grossness  that  maketh  the  sweet  marjoram  not 
to  smell  to  their  delight.  "^^    Ascham,  by  virtue  of  his  intimacy  with  the 

lowest  scorn  of  the  age;  and  those  men  subject  to  the  petulancy  of  every  vernaculous 
orator,  that  were  wont  to  be  the  care  of  kings  and  happiest  monarchs.  This  it  is  that 
hath  not  only  rapt  me  to  present  indignation,  but  made  me  studious  heretofore,  and 
by  all  my  actions,  to  stand  off  from  them. " 

"  Printer  to  Reader,  Arber  ed. 


20  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

masterpieces  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans,  had  developed  a  very  exacting 
taste,  and  according  to  his  own  account  a  high  degree  of  culture  is  like- 
wise happily  to  be  found  in  the  refined  literary  judgments  of  Elizabeth, 
who,  doubtless  owing  largely  to  Ascham's  tutorage,  was  much  more 
discriminating  than  her  father,  that  encourager  and  abettor  of  the 
despised  balladists.  Ascham's  classical  culture,  too,  led  him  to  repre- 
hend the  rashness  of  writers  who  stooped  to  popular  taste,  "pleasing  the 
humor  of  a  rude  multitude,  "^"^  and  thereby  fostering  a  low  standard. 

Critics  and  poets  of  less  training  than  Ascham  censured  the  bad  taste 
of  English  readers,  though  naturally  the  deleterious  influences  of  un- 
cultured readers,  less  patent  than  the  offenses  of  those  who  ministered 
to  their  taste,  were  less  subject  to  reprehension.  Gascoigne,  whose  own 
standards  were  questioned  by  some  of  his  contemporaries,  in  putting 
forth  his  A  Hundreth  Sundry  Flowers  (1573),  assumes  an  attitude  of 
contempt  for  vulgar  readers,  thereby  differentiating  himself  from  poets 
who  cater  to  a  lower  standard  of  taste.  Lodge,  though  with  dramatic 
poetry  chiefly  in  mind,  complains  of  conditions  under  which  "our  men 
dare  not  nowadays  presume  so  much  as  the  old  poets  might,  and  there- 
fore they  apply  their  writing  to  the  people's  vein."" 

In  introducing  the  new  poet  and  the  superior  poetry  of  the  Shepherd'' s 
Calendar,  E.  K.  finds  one  of  the  chief  obstacles  to  a  favorable  reception 
to  be  an  unprepared  audience.  In  view  of  this  it  was  deemed  advisable 
by  himself  and  his  author  to  preface  the  poem  by  a  careful  explanatory 
introduction,  a  principal  object  of  which  was  to  anticipate  the  "shame" 
of  readers  who  "whatso  they  understand  not  they  straightway  deem  to 
be  senseless  and  not  at  all  to  be  understood. "  Moreover,  on  account  of 
deficiencies  of  taste  and  perception  on  the  part  of  English  readers,  E.  K. 
adds  a  gloss  in  order  that  "many  excellent  and  proper  devices,  both  in 
words  and  matter,"  might  not  be  lost  upon  them  "either  as  unknown  or 
as  not  marked."^*  Spenser  himself  in  the  tenth  eclogue  of  the  Shep- 
herd's Calendar  bitterly  taunts  contemporary  taste  in  its  effect  on  poetry 

"  Schoolmaster,  Smith,  i,  31.  Thomas  Drant,  in  the  preface  to  his  translation  of 
Horace's  Art  of  Poetry  (1567),  complains  that  "fiim  flams  and  gew  gaws,  be  they  never 
so  slight  and  slender,  are  sooner  rapt  up  than  are  those  which  be  lettered  and  clerkly 
makings. " 

"Smith,    i,    83. 

^  lb.,  130,  132.  Cp.  Touchstone  to  Audrey:  "When  a  man's  verses  cannot  be 
understood,  nor  a  man's  good  wit  seconded  with  the  forward  child  Understanding,  it 
strikes  a  man  more  dead  than  a  great  reckoning  in  a  httle  room"  {As  You  Like  It, 
III,  iii,  12.) 


THE   STATE   OF   POETRY;   CAUSES;   REMEDIES  21 

in  his  "ironical  sarcasmus,"  "Tom  Piper  makes  us  better  melody."  In 
his  Tears  of  the  Muses  he  laments  the  fact  that  the  "accursed  brood"  of 
ignorant  scribblers  make  the  "vulgar  sort"  merry  with  their  fooleries  and 
"reign  in  liking  of  the  multitude. "  Further  deploring  the  baleful  effects 
on  "noble  poesy"  of  a  horde  of  uncultured  readers,  he  complains  that, 
after  Ehzabeth,  herself  a  peerless  poetess. 

Some  few  beside  this  sacred  skill  esteem 

But  all  the  rest  as  born  of  salvage  brood. 

And  having  been  with  acorns  always  fed, 

Can  no  whit  this  celestial  food. 
Webbe,  from  the  scholastic  point  of  view,  complains  of  the  inability 
of  the  times  "  to  discern  between  good  writers  and  bad  "  f^  and  Stanyhurst, 
taking  the  attitude  of  most  translators  of  poetry  from  Caxton  down, 
scorns  untutored  readers  and  reprobates  the  injury  to  poetry  due  to  their 
patronage  of  the  fry  of  "wooden  rythmours. "''''  Puttenham,  the  cour- 
tier, censures  the  taste  of  the  "common  people,"  who  in  their  "natural 
ignorance"  are  "as  well  satisfied  with  that  which  is  gross,  as  with  any 
other  finer  and  more  delicate,  "^^  and  further  deplores  the  detriment  to 
poetry  proceeding  from  "the  barbarous  ignorance  of  the  times,  and 
pride  of  many  gentlemen  and  others,  whose  gross  heads  not  being  brought 

up  or  acquainted  with  any  excellent  art they  do  deride  and  scorn 

it  in  all  others  as  superfluous." 

Nash  in  his  preface  to  the  Astrophel  and  Stella  of  Sir  Phihp  Sidney — 
whose  own  treatise  on  poetry  was  written  with  a  strong  realization  of  the 
deficiencies  of  contemporary  English  taste  and  the  inability  of  the  times 
to  discriminate  between  poets  and  poet-apes — excuses  his  "presumption 
for  offering  to  put  up  any  motion  of  applause  in  the  behah  of  so  excellent 
a  poet."  But,  like  E.  K.,  apparently  fearing  that  it  may  be  a  case  of 
casting  pearls,  he  implies  reflections  against  the  taste  and  perception  of 
prospective  readers,  declaring  that  "jewels  oftentimes  come  to  their 

hands  that  know  not  their  value the  coxcombs  of  our  days,  like 

Esop's  cock,  had  rather  have  a  barley  kernel  wrapt  up  in  a  ballet  than 
they  will  dig  for  the  wealth  of  wit  in  any  ground  that  they  know  not.  "^^ 
This  lack  of  taste  on  the  part  of  English  readers  of  poetry  elicits  further 

'^  Discourse,  Smith,  i,  227. 

'"  Ded.  Aeneid,  Smith,  i,  141. 

"  Art  of  English  Poesy,  Smith,  ii,  19,  86.  Cp.  Ben  Jonson  (Pref.  Alchemist) :  "For 
it  is  only  the  disease  of  the  unskillful  to  think  rude  things  greater  than  polished;  or 
scattered  more  numerous  than  composed." 

«2  Smith,    ii,    224, 


22  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

comment  from  Nash  in  his  Anatomy  of  Absurdity.     "He  that  will  seek 

for  a  pearl,"  he  says,  "must  learn  how  to  know  it  when  he  sees  it 

and  they  that  covet  to  pick  more  precious  knowledge  out  of  poets' 
amorous  elegies  must  have  a  discerning  knowledge  before  they  can 
aspire  to  the  perfection  of  their  desired  knowledge.  "^^  Writers  them- 
selves, Nash  finds,  are  sometimes  as  deficient  in  this  respect  as  readers, 
some  of  them  as  soon  entertaining  in  their  libraries  "a  tale  of  John  a 
Brainford"  "as  the  best  poem  that  ever  Tasso  eternisht,"  in  their 
"  undiscerning  judgment "  making  "  dross  as  valuable  as  gold.  "^  "  Alas, 
poor  Latinless  authors,"  he  writes  again  in  Pierce  Penniless,  "they  are 
so  simple  they  know  not  what  they  do;  they  no  sooner  spy  a  new  ballad, 
and  his  name  to  it  that  compiled  it:  but  they  put  him  in  for  one  of  the 
learned  men  of  our  time."  "Every  gross  brained  idiot  is  suffered  to 
come  into  print,  who  if  he  set  forth  a  pamphlet  of  the  praise  of  pudding- 
pricks,  or  write  a  treatise  of  Tom  Thumb,  or  the  exploits  of  Untruss;  it 
is  bought  up  thick  and  threefold,  when  better  things  lie  dead."^^ 

Among  others  finding  in  the  want  of  cultivation  and  taste  of  readers 
an  obstacle  to  poetry,  Harington  deplores  the  folly  of  people  "that 
understand  it  not";""'  and  Harvey  in  sarcasm  exclaims  against  the  taste 
of  the  times:  "A  phantastical  rimester  more  vendible  than  the  notablest 

mathematician Robin  Good-fellow  the  meetest  author  for  Robin 

Hood's  library!""  Harvey's  "sarcasmus,"  like  Spenser's,  is  supported 
by  such  accounts  of  the  indiscriminate  thirst  for  popular  verse  as  are 
given  by  Henry  Chettle  and  reflected  in  the  drama  by  Shakespeare  and 
Ben  Jonson.  "The  people,"  says  Chettle,  "delight  to  hear  some  new 
thing.  "''^  Mopsa  was  made  to  speak  for  more  than  herself  in  her  declara- 
tion, "I  love  a  ballad  in  print,  o'  life."^^ 

"  Smith,  i,  333. 

"76.,  310.  Cp.  Robert  Laneham's  Letter  on  Captain  Cox's  library  (1575)- 
Laneham  mentions  the  titles  of  several  ballads,  songs,  and  tales  and  says,  "A  hundred 
more  he  hath,  fair  wrapt  up  in  parchment  and  bound  with  a  whipcord."  "I  beUeve 
he  have  them  all  at  fingers'  ends."  "Scarcely  any  of  the  private  records  of  this  time." 
says  Sheavyn  {The  Literary  Profession  in  the  Elizabethan  Age,  p.  147),  "contain  poems 
of  literary  value.     It  is  the  same  with  the  printed  Uterature  exchanged." 

«*  Works,  McKerrow,  i,  159,  194. 

'"  Pref.  Orlando  Furioso,  Smith,  ii,  195. 

"  Pierce's  Supererogation,  Smith,  ii,  251. 

^^Kind-Heart's  Dream,  Percy  Soc,  v,  19.  George  Wither  {Scholars'  Purgatory, 
1635)  complains  bitterly  of  the  hundreds  of  pounds  spent  yearly  on  "vain  songs  and 
profane  ballads",  the  stationers'  warehouses  containing  thousands  of  them. 

«»  Winter's  Tale,  IV,  iv,  263. 


THE   STATE   OF   POETRY;   CAUSES;   REMEDIES  23 

Bishop  Hall,  though  he  hopes  that  his  satire  possesses  something  of 
the  distinction  of  that  of  Juvenal,  pleads  guilty  to  the  "obvious  cavil" 
of  "too  much  stooping,"  for  the  sake  of  being  understood,  "to  the  low 
reach  of  the  vulgar."™  Chapman,  assuming  the  more  independent 
attitude  of  the  learned  translator  of  Homer,  and  Hmiting  his  prefatory- 
remarks  "to  the  understander, "  who  is  "not  everybody,"  scorns  the 
"idle  capacities"  that  are  not  expected  to  be  "comprehensible  of  an 
elaborate  poem.  "^^  Most  writers,  however,  feel  that  the  public  must 
be  taken  into  account  as  an  important  influence  on  the  state  of  poetry. 
Drayton,  for  instance,  expressly  ascribes  the  neglect  of  best  writers  to 
the  popular  taste  for  inferior  work. 

Base  balladry  is  so  belov'd  and  sought. 

And  those  brave  numbers  are  put  by  for  naught, 

Which,  rarely  read,  were  able  to  awake 

Bodies  from   graves 

But  I  know  ensuing  ages  shall 

Raise  her  again  who  now  is  in  her  fall. 
And  out  of  dust  reduce  our  scattered  rimes, 
Th'  rejected  jewels  of  these  slothful  times.^^ 

The  remarks  of  Samuel  Daniel:  "we  write"  for  the  "general  sort," 
and  "suffer  then  the  world  to  enjoy  that  which  it  knows,  and  what  it 
likes,  "^^  express  a  most  heretical  attitude  out  of  accord  with  the  critical 

'"  Complete  Poems,  Grosart,  pp.  103-5. 

"Pref.  Iliad,  Smith,  ii,  304. 

""To   Master    George   Sandys." 

'^  Defense  of  Rime,  Smith,  ii,  363.  In  his  Musophilus  Daniel  asserts  his  indepen- 
dence of  readers  in  general: 

And  for  my  part,  if  only  one  allow 
The  care  my  laboring  spirits  take  in  this, 
He  is  to  me  a  theater  large  enow, 

And  his  applause  only  sufficient  is 

But  what  if  none?  it  cannot  yet  undo 
The  love  I  bear  unto  this  holy  skill. 

Cp.  Ben  Jonson  {Apologetical  Dialogue,  at  end  of  Poetaster): 

Where  if  I  prove  the  pleasure  but  of  one, 
So  he  judicious  be,  he  shall  be  alone 
A  theater  unto  me. 

And  Shakespeare  {Hamlet  III,  ii,  29):  " the  judicious the  censure 

of  the  which  one  must o'erweigh  a  whole  theater  of  others." 


24  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

opinion  of  the  time;  the  general  attitude  of  the  critics  being  summed  up 
rather  by  the  view  expressed  in  Ben  Jonson's  Poetaster^^  that  if  men 
would  but  learn  "to  distinguish  spirits,"  and  to  discriminate  between 
jaded  hireling  wits  and  the  "high  raptures"  of  immortal  poets  they  would 
not  then,  with  "dudgeon  censures,  stab  at  poesy";  and  further  expressed 
in  the  original  quarto  of  Every  Man  in  His  Humor  where  the  "fat  judg- 
ments of  the  multitude"  are  reprobated  and  the  fact  deplored, 

that  this  barren  and  infected  age 
Should  set  no  difference  twixt  these  empty  spirits 
And  a  true  poet.''^ 

"  Act   I,    sc.    ii. 

'^  Act  V,  sc.  i.  The  lack  of  discrimination  in  popular  taste  is  a  problem  that  evi- 
dently causes  Jonson  much  soHcitude  and  his  expressions  of  absolute  scorn  may  usually 
be  construed  as  attempts  at  correction.  At  the  end  of  Every  Man  in  His  Humor, 
quarto  edition,  the  speaker  declares: 

The  cates  that  you  have  tasted  were  not  seasoned 
For  every  vulgar  palate,  but  prepared 

To  banquet  pure  and  apprehensive  ears 

Be  their  applause  the  trumpet  to  proclaim 
Defiance  to  rebeUing  ignorance. 

In  his  address  "To  the  Reader"  prefixed  to  The  Alchemist,  the  author  complains  that 
the  poetasters  who  mock  at  terms  of  art  "are  esteemed  the  more  learned  and  sufficient 
for  this  by  the  many,  through  their  excellent  vice  of  judgment."  In  the  Prologue  to 
Cynthia's  Revels  the  "doubtful  author"  hopes  for  an  understanding  appreciation  at 
Court. 

To  other  weaker  beams  his  labors  close, 

As  loath  to  prostitute  their  virgin  strain, 

To  every  vulgar  and  adulterate  brain. 

His  Muse  neither  loves  nor  fears  "pied  Ignorance," — 

Nor  hunts  she  after  popular  applause, 

Or  foamy  praise  that  drops  from  common  jaws; 

The  garland  that  she  wears  their  hands  must  twine, 

Who  can  both  censure,  understand,  define 

What    merit    is. 

Shakespeare,  though  apparently  not  averse  to  pleasing  the  multitude,  also  indicates 
contempt  for  vulgar  taste.  He  dedicates  his  Venus  and  Adonis  to  a  noble  patron, 
prefixing  a  haughty  epigraph  from  Ovid :  "  Vilia  miretur  vulgus."  The  play  of  Pyramus 
and  Thisbe  in  Midsummer-Night's  Dream  is  only  less  complimentary  to  the  taste  of  the 
"people"  than  is  The  Knight  of  the  Burning  Pestle.  Hamlet's  remarks  show  little 
respect  for  the  popular  judgment:  "For  the  play,  I  remember,  pleased  not  the  million 

'twas  caviare  to  the  general :  but  it  was an  excellent  play, " — "the  groundlings, 

who  for  the  most  part,  are  capable  of  nothing  but  inexphcable  dumb-shows  and 


THE   STATE   OF   POETRY;   CAUSES;   REMEDIES  25 

The  critics  of  this  period,  having  partaken  of  that  which  gave  them 
a  knowledge  of  good  and  evil  in  things  literary,  condemned  the  less 
fortunate  multitude  for  their  inability  to  distinguish  between  "acorns" 
and  more  "celestial  food. "  The  wine  of  poetry  being  broached  for  them 
by  means  of  the  printing  press,  the  masses  were  too  well  content  to  quaff 
but  its  froth  and  dregs.  Most  of  the  critics,  notwithstanding  their 
general  assumption  of  the  aristocracy  of  letters,  were  not  unwilling  to 
grant  the  people  the  benefits  of  poetry;  but  they  objected  very  strongly 
to  having  English  poetic  standards  lowered  by  the  demoralizing  influences 
of  popular  bad  taste.  The  problem  was  difficult;  for,  not  yet  purged  of 
the  abhorred  barbarism  of  old  times  and  in  their  "fat  judgments"  not 
knowing  a  pearl  when  they  saw  it,  exasperatingly  content  with  barley 
kernels  wrapped  up  in  ballads,  the  common  people  in  great  numbers  had 
come  into  a  participation  in  the  printed  page.  To  them  all  sorts  of 
versified  journaUstic  rubbish  as  well  as  ridiculous  imitations  of  the 
amorous  ditties  of  the  court  were  highly  acceptable, — and  they  were  not 
to  be  deterred,  their  wants  being  abundantly  supplied.  Thus  was 
poetic  art  lowered  and  the  profession  of  poet  discredited.  This  state  of 
affairs,  the  critics  deemed,  was  highly  detrimental  to  the  interests  of 
poetry  and  a  reproach  to  the  nation,  and  they  exerted  themselves  to 
save  the  art  from  degradation  through  the  perverting  influence  of  "  the 
uncapable  multitude." 

4.  The  Lack  of  Talent  and  of  Patronage 

Poetry  suffers  further,  the  critics  find, — largely  in  consequence  of 
the  degradation  due  to  the  rimesters  and  the  bad  taste  of  the  people — 
from  the  non-participation,  at  least  in  print,  of  men  of  culture  and  poetic 
genius,  and  from  the  lack  of  patronage  of  the  noble  and  great.  | 

noise," — "now  this  overdone,  or  come  tardy  off,  though  it  make  the  unskillful  laugh, 
cannot  but  make  the  judicious  grieve;  the  censure  of  the  which  one  must,  in  your 
allowance,  o'erweigh  a  whole  theater  of  others." 

For  similar  complaints  of  the  deleterious  influence  of  the  bad  taste  of  the  people 
and  of  authors  lowering  standards  by  pandering  to  it.  cf.  H.  S.  Symmes'  Crit.  Dram., 
pp.  92,  146,  164,  197,  198.  Lyly  ascribes  to  the  audience  the  responsibility  for  the 
mixed  drama;  Ben  Jonson  finds  that  to  please  the  people  concessions  from  the  obser- 
vance of  classic  rules  must  be  made;  and  Martson  and  others  make  similar  complaints 
of  the  evil  effects  of  the  low  taste  of  the  populace.  Webster's  remarks  in  the  preface 
to  his  White  Devil  are  significant  as  to  the  influence  of  the  persistent  pressure  of  popular 
taste.     What  is  the  use,  he  complains,  of  laboriously  composing  "sententious  tragedy 

observing  all  the  critical  laws,  as  height  of  style  and  gravity  of  person," 

when  "the  breath  that  comes  from  the  uncapable  multitude  is  able  to  poison  it?" 


26  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

Elizabethan  literary  men  of  rank,  unwilling  to  place  themselves  on  a 
level  with  the  "scribbling  rascality,"  usually  disdained  to  print  their 
works.  Satellites  of  the  nobiUty  or  court,  dependent  upon  their  poetic 
talent  to  advance  their  fortunes,  entered  more  or  less  cautiously  into 
print  with  the  hope  of  gaining  some  kind  of  preferment.  But  noblemen 
like  Surrey  and  Sidney  held  elegantly  aloof  from  the  democratic  vehicle 
that  would  disperse  their  works  among  the  multitude,  alongside  those  of 
the  despised  rabble  of  versifiers,  and  perhaps  subject  them  to  ridiculous 
imitation.  With  a  man  like  Phaer,  who  prints  his  translation  of  Virgil 
for  the  "honest  recreation  of  you  the  nobiUty,"^^  it  was  different;  and 
likewise  with  Spenser,  for,  possessing  poetic  genius  but  lacking  wealth  or 
rank,  he  was  constrained,  to  the  great  joy  of  the  critics  and  well-wishers 
of  poetry,  to  enter  the  field  with  the  rest  (though  at  first  anonymously), 
striving,  however,  so  to  differentiate  himself  from  the  rabble  as  to  gain 
the  favor  and  patrorjage  of  those  in  high  place. 

The  view  of  the  critics  that  poetry  suffers  loss  from  lack  of  participa- 
tion of  the  best  wits  is  manifested  by  E.  K.  in  his  triumphant  heralding 
of  Spenser,  the  new  found  champion,  by  virtue  of  whose  superior  ex- 
cellence he  scorns  and  spews  out  the  "rakehelly  rout"  of  jangling  rimers. 
To  increase  the  triumph  and  further  to  advance  English  poetry,  E.  K. 
hopes  that  his  author,  though  "he  nothing  so  much  hateth  as  to  pro- 
mulgate," will  now  that  the  ice  is  broken  "put  forth  divers  other  excel- 
lent works  of  his  which  sleep  in  silence.""  Still  further  evincing  his 
enthusiasm  and  solicitude  for  the  cause  of  poetry,  E.  K.  also  exhorts 
Spenser's  friend,  Gabriel  Harvey,  another  who  hesitates  to  print,  to 
bring  "forth  to  eternal  light"  his  "many  English  poems." 

Spenser's  reluctance  to  "promulgate"  his  works  is  further  manifested 
by  the  poet  himself  in  a  letter  to  Harvey  in  which  he  speaks  of  his  hesita- 
tion to  publish  his  Shepherd's  Calendar,  among  other  reasons  because  he 
might  seem  "for  gain  or  commodity  to  do  it."^^  Notwithstanding  this 
scruple,  however,  Spenser  voices  very  strongly  the  frequent  complaint 

'«  Warton's  Hist.  Eng.  Poetry,  iv,  221. 

"  Epist.  Ded.  to  Shepherd's  Calendar.  L.  Blunderston,  the  printer  of  Googe's 
Eclogues,  Epitaphs,  and  Sonnets  (1562),  addressing  the  reader,  hopes  that  the  reception 
of  the  work  may  be  such  as  to  "encourage  others  to  make  thee  partaker  of  the  like  or 
far  greater  jewels  who  yet  doubting  thy  unthankful  receipt  niggardly  keep  them  to  their 
own  use  and  private  commodity,  whereas  being  assured  of  the  contrary  by  thy  friendly 
report  of  other  men's  travails,  they  could  perhaps  be  easily  entreated  more  freely  to 
lend  them  abroad  to  thy  greater  avail  and  futherance." 

'8  Smith,    i,    88. 


THE   STATE   OF   POETRY;   CAUSES;   REMEDIES  27 

of  the  critics  of  the  lack  of  poetic  patronage.  In  his  eclogue  on  the 
contempt  of  poetry  he  complains  that  poetry  has  no  place  "in  prince's 
palace,"  though,  as  E.  K.  explains  in  the  gloss,  poets  have  formerly 
always  found  honor  "in  the  sight  of  princes  and  noblemen."  This 
Spenser  had  "elsewhere  [in  The  English  Poet]  more  notably "^^  shown, 
doubtless  with  the  hope  of  eliciting  in  England  the  desired  patronage  for 
poetic  art.  In  his  Tears  of  the  Muses  he  likewise  laments  the  state  of 
affairs  in  which  poetry  no  longer  finds  "  entertainment  or  in  court  or 
school. " 

Their  great  revenues  all  in  sumptuous  pride 

They  spend,  that  naught  to  learning  they  may  spare; 

And  the  rich  fee  which  poets  wont  divide 

Now  parasites  and  sycophants  do  share. 

In  ages  past  poetry  fared  better. 

Then  was  she  held  in  sovereign  dignity 
And  made  the  nursling  of  nobility. 

But  now  nor  prince  nor  priest  doth  her  maintain 

One  only  lives,  her  age's  ornament. 
And  mirror  of  her  Maker's  majesty. 
That  with  rich  bounty  and  dear  cherishment 
Supports  the  praise  of  noble  poesy.** 

The  One,  Elizabeth,   "is  herself  a  peerless  poetess."     Only  a  "few^^ 
'9  Works,    Globe   ed.,   p.    479. 

*°  lb.,  p.  503.  Cp.  Spenser's  picture  of  unsuccessful  suing  at  Court,  Mother Hiibberd's 
Tale,  II.  892-909.  Peele  also  expresses  hope  for  poetry  in  the  patronage  of  the 
Queen;  cf.  The  Honor  of  the  Garter  — Ad  Maecenatem  Frologus." 

For  other  patrons  have  our  poets  none, 

But  Muses  and  the  Graces  to  implore 

Unless    in    hope    Augusta    will    restore 

The  wrongs  that  learning  bears  of  covetousness 

And  Court's  disdain,  the  enemy  to  art. 

^^  One  of  these  few  was  evidently  the  Countess  of  Pembroke,  whom  the  critics 
hold  up  as  a  shining  example  of  Uterary  patronage.     Nash  eulogizes  her  as  the  "fair 

sister  of  Phoebus  [Sidney]  and  eloquent  secretary  of  the  Muses whom  arts  do 

adore  as  the  second  Minerva,  and  our  poets  extol  as  the  patroness  of  their  invention" 
(Pref.  Astro phel  and  Stella,  Smith,  ii,  225).      Abraham  Fraunce  dedicated  to  her  his 

Arcadian  Rhetoric  (1588);  and  Meres  extols   her  as  "learned  Mary the 

noble  sister  of  immortal  Sir  PhiUp  Sidney \ery  liberal  unto  poets;  besides 

a  most  dehcate  poet"  {Palladis  Tamia,  Smith,  ii,  321-2). 


28  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

beside  this  sacred  skill  esteem."  In  verses  prefixed  to  the  Faery  Queen 
Spenser  again  calls  attention  of  the  court  to  the  fact  that 

The  sacred  Muses  have  made  always  claim 
To  be  the  nurses  of  nobility,^- — 

and  in  seventeen  sonnets  addressed  to  the  Queen  and  all  the  great  lords 
and  ladies  of  the  court  he  bids  hard  for  patronage,  hoping  to  regain  for 
poetry  something  of  its  former  favor  in  the  eyes  of  the  great,  for  with 
these  poetry  ought  to  find  grace,  especially  when  its  object  is  "  to  fashion 
a  gentleman." 

And  yet,  for  all  this,  unregarding  soil 
Unlac't  the  Une  of  his  desired  life, 
Denying  maintenance  for  his  dear  relief; 
Careless  ere  to  prevent  his  exequy, 
Scarce  deigning  to  shut  up  his  dying  eye.^^ 

Sir  Philip  Sidney,  who  also  deplores  England's  cold  welcome  to 
poetry,  offers  a  pointed  explanation  for  the  reluctance  of  the  best  wits  to 
appear  in  print,  which  may  serve  as  a  reason  why  he  himself,  though 
soHcitous  for  the  advancement  of  poetic  art  in  England,  did  not  publish 
any  of  his  writings  during  his  lifetime.  "'Quels  meliore  luto  finxit 
praecordia  Titan,^''  he  writes,  quoting  from  Juvenal,  "are  better  content 
to  suppress  the  out-flowing  of  their  wit,  than  by  publishing  them  to  be 
accounted  knights  of  the  same  order.  "^ 

Webbe,  at  the  beginning  of  his  Discourse  of  English  Poetry,  complains 
of  the  neglect  of  poetry  by  learned  men,  and  asks  consideration  for  his 
book  2iS  "  a,n  ins  tar  cot  is  to  stir  up  some  other  of  meet  ability  to  bestow 
travail  in  this  matter."  It  is  lamentable,  he  thinks,  that  whereas  other 
kinds  of  learning  have  received  ample  attention  from  "men  of  great 
authority  and  judgment,  only  poetry  hath  found  fewest  friends  to  amend 
it,  those  that  can  reserving  their  skill  to  themselves. "  Just  as  eloquence 
has  "found  such  favorers  in  the  English  tongue"  that  "she  frequenteth 
not  any  more  gladly,  so  would  poetry,  if  there  were  the  like  welcome  and 
entertainment  given  her  by  our  English  poets,  without  question  aspire 
to  wonderful  perfection,  and  appear  far  more  gorgeous  and  delectable 
among  us."  Webbe  therefore  exhorts  the  learned  poets  to  "take 
compassion  of  noble  poetry"  and  rescue  it  from  manghng  and  deface- 

82  Works,   Globe  ed.,  p.   7. 

83  Relurn  from  Parnassus  (1601),  Pt.  II,    Act  I,  sc.  ii. 
^'^  Apology,    Smith,    i,    195. 


THE   STATE   OF   POETRY;   CAUSES;   REMEDIES  29 

ment  by  "rude  smatterers  and  barbarous  imitators."^  Welcoming 
Spenser's  aid  in  advancing  poetry  and  in  discrediting  the  rabble,  he 
regrets  that  he  can  find  no  other  with  whom  to  couple  the  new  poet  in 
his  "rare  gift,"  unless  it  be  his  friend  Harvey,  and  in  behalf  of  English 
poetry  he  is  eager  for  the  publication  of  Spenser's  other  works,  especially 
his  English  Poet.^^ 

In  contrasting  the  conditions  of  his  own  day  with  those  of  ancient 
times,  or  even  the  time  of  Henry  VIII,  when  poets  prospered  as  "  prince4 
pleasers,"  Puttenham  complains  that  it  is  hard  to  find  "a  cunning  poet,| 
because  we  find  few  great  princes  much  delighted  in  the  same  studies,  "j 
He  regrets  that  it  has  come  to  pass  that  "such  among  the  nobility  or 
gentry  as  be  very  well  seen  in  many  laudable  sciences,  and  especially  in 

making  of  poesy have  no  courage  to  write,  and,  if  they  have,  yet 

are  they  loath  to  be  known  of  their  skill";  and  he  knows  "very  many 
notable  gentlemen  in  the  court  that  have  written  commendably,  and 
suppressed  it  again,  or  else  suffered  it  to  be  publisht  without  their  own 
names  to  it.  "^^  The  reasons  why  few  gentlemen  delight  in  the  art  are 
"the  scorn  and  ordinary  disgrace  offered  unto  poets  in  these  days,"  and 
the  lack  of  liberality  in  princes,  who,  "for  their  largess"  formerly  ac- 
counted "the  only  patrons  of  learning,"  now  seem  to  take  no  pleasure  in 
poetry,  and  since  by  their  "example  the  subject  is  commonly  led, "*^ 
poetry  suffers.    Hope  for  the  art,  however,  is  to  be  found  in  the  fact. 

8^  Smith,  i,  227,  229. 

8«/6.,  232,  245. 

"  Art  of  English  Poesy,  Smith,  ii,  22.  Their  example  was  apparently  followed  by 
the  author  of  this  treatise.  The  handicap  to  poetry  due  to  the  aristocratic  antipathy 
felt  toward  the  vulgar  and  democratic  institution  of  printing  is  indicated  again  and 
again.  Drayton,  "To  the  General  Reader"  of  his  Polyolbion,  complains:  "There  is 
a  great  disadvantage  against  me,  that  it  cometh  out  at  this  time  when  verses  are 
wholly  deduced  to  chambers,  and  nothing  esteemed  in  this  lunatic  age  but  what  is 
kept  in  cabinets  and  must  pass  by  transcription. "  Donne  "acknowledges  it  as  a  seri- 
ous faiilt  in  himself  'to  have  descended  to  print  anything  in  verse'  "  (E.  Gosse,  Life  of 
Donne,  i,  303).  "It  is  ridiculous,"  says  Seldon,  "for  a  lord  to  print  verses;  'tis  well 
enough  to  make  them  to  please  himself,  but  to  make  them  pubhc  is  foohsh"  {Dis- 
course of  John  Selden,  Esq.,  ed.  S.  H.  Rejoiolds,  p.  135).  Ben  Jonson's  Epicoene, 
II,  ii: 

Daw You  have  of  the  wits  that  write  verses,  and  yet  are  no  poets: 

they  are  poets  that  hve  by  it,  the  poor  fellows  that  hve  by  it. 

Daiip.     WTiy,  would  you  not  hve  by  your  verses,  Sir  John? 

Cler.  No,  'twere  pity  he  should.  A  knight  Hve  by  his  verses!  he  did  not  make  them 
to  that  end,  I  hope He'U  not  hinder  his  own  rising  in  the  state  so  much. 

«8/6.,    21-22. 


30  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

that  "in  her  Majesty's  time"  "another  crew  of  courtly  makers"  has 
sprung  up,  "noblemen  and  gentlemen  of  her  Majesty's  own  servants, 
who  have  written  excellently  well,"  though  it  is  a  pity  that  in  behalf  of 
poetry  their  writings  have  not  been  "found  out  and  made  public  with 
the  rest."  Best  of  all,  poetry  is  honored  by  the  "learned,  delicate, 
noble  Muse"  of  "the  Queen  our  Sovereign  Lady";^^  and  in  his  elation  at 
this  Puttenham  himself  is  inspired  to  versify,  though  in  less  happy  man- 
ner than  that  of  Master  Spenser. 

And  as  some  think,  your  highness  takes  delight 

Oft  to  peruse  the  styles  of  other  men. 

And  oft  yourself,  with  Lady  Sappho's  pen, 

In  sweet  measures  of  poesy  t'endite 

The  rare  effects  of  your  heavenly  sprite.^" 

The  loss  to  poetry  due  to  the  non-participation  of  the  finest  wits  is 
keenly  deplored  by  Nash.  "There  are  extant  about  London,"  he  says, 
"many  most  able  men  to  revive  poetry. "^^  But  whereas  the  ignorant 
"endeavor  continually  to  publish  their  folly,"  "those  that  are  most 
exquisitely  furnished  with  learning  shroud  themselves  in  obscurity." 
Poets  of  genius  and  ability  are  silent  because  of  the  absurdity  and  inso- 
lence of  "rude  rithmours"  who,  "as  the  basilisk  with  his  hiss  driveth  all 
other  serpents  from  the  place  of  his  abode,"  "with  their  jarring  verse" 
alienate  men  from  delight  in  poetry. ^^  Nash's  conviction  that  poetry 
has  suffered  from  this  alienation  of  the  best  wits  is  further  evinced  by  his 
elation  over  the  publication  of  Sidney's  Astrophel  and  Stella  (1591)  by 
virtue  of  which  he,  like  E.  K.  in  case  of  the  Shepherd's  Calendar,  defiantly 
cries  down  the  hobgoblin  rimes ters  who  "lead  men  up  and  down  in  a 
circle  of  absurdity.  "^^ 

In  Nash's  Pierce  Penniless^  (1592)  there  is  much  complaint  of  the 
neglect  of  poets.  "But  all  in  vain,"  laments  Pierce,  "I  sat  up  late,  and 
rose  early,  contended  with  the  cold,  and  conversed  with  scarcity:  for  all 
my  labors  turned  to  loss,  my  vulgar  muse  was  despised  and  neglected, 

8'/6.,  63,  66. 

*"  Partheniades,  cf.  Haslewood's  ed.  Art  of  English  Poesy,  p.  xix. 

"  Pref.  Greene's  Menaphon,  Smith,  i,  319. 

^^  Anatomy  of  Absurdity,  Smith,  i,  322,  328. 

*'  Pref.  Astrophel  and  Stella,  Smith,  ii,  224.  The  author  of  Polimanteia  (1595)  smiles 
to  see  the  "smaller  lights"  "hide  themselves  at  the  Sun's  appear,"  and  is  pleased 
to  think  that  now  the  Muses  shall  not  "be  so  basely  handled  by  every  rough  swain." 

»*  Works,    McKerrow,   i,    157  ff. 


THE   STATE   OF  POETRY;   CAUSES;   REMEDIES  31 

my  pains  not  regarded,  or  slightly  rewarded,  and  I  myself  (in  prime  of 
my  wit)  laid  open  to  poverty."  He  then  paints  forth  his  passion  in 
verse,  but 

Without  redress  complains  my  careless  verse, 

And  Midas-ears  relent  not  at  my  moan. 

In  England  "skill  is  nothing  worth"  and  a  scrivener  is  "better  paid  for 
an  obligation  than  a  scholar  for  the  best  poem  he  can  make. "  Then  too 
Sir  Philip  Sidney  has  left  too  few  successors  of  his  glory  in  cherishing  the 
sons  of  the  Muses.  There  is  not  the  "strict  observation  of  honor,  which 
hath  been  heretofore.  Men  of  great  calling  take  it  of  merit,  to  have 
their  names  eternized  by  poets;  and  whatsoever  pamphlet  or  dedication 
encounters  them,  they  put  it  up  in  their  sleeves,  and  scarce  give  him 
thanks  that  presents  it.  "^^  Such  men  not  only  give  "  nothing  themselves, 
but  impoverish  liberality  in  others.  "^^ 

The  lack  of  patronage  of  poets  is  further  set  forth  by  Lodge  in  his 
Fig  for  Momiis^'^  (1595)  in  a  long  pastoral  dialogue  between  Wagrin  and 
Golde. 

Wagrin. 

Why  sings  not  Golde  as  he  whilom  did 
In  sacred  numbers,  and  diviner  vein. 

Such  hymns,  as  from  base-humor'd  brains  are  hid? 

Golde. 

Can  virtue  spring  that  wanteth  true  regard? 
No  Wagrin  no:  'tis  wisdom  to  refrain 

In  such  an  age,  where  learning  hath  no  laud 

Wagrin. 

Fie  Golde,  blame  not  all  men  for  few. 

The  Muses  have  some  friends,  who  will  esteem 

A  man  of  worth,  and  give  desert  his  due 

»5  Cp.   Hall    {Virgidemiarum,    Bk.   V,    81): 

Grand  Maecenas  casts  a  glavering  eye 

On   the   cold   present   of   a   poesy. 

^^  But  "far  be  it,  bright  stars  of  Nobility,  and  glistering  attendants  on  the  true 
Diana,"  writes  Nash  near  the  end,  "that  this  my  speech  shoidd  be  any  way  injurious 
to  your  glorious  magnificence:  for  in  you  Hve  those  sparks  of  Augustan  liberality,  that 
never  sent  any  away  empty;  and  Science  sevenfold  throne,  well  nigh  ruined  by  riot 
and  avarice,  is  mightily  supported  by  your  plentiful  largess,  which  makes  poets  to 
sing  such  goodly  hymns  of  your  praise,  as  no  envious  posterity  may  forget." 

"  Eclogue  III,  Co7nplete  Works,  vol.  iii,  p.  23  ff.  Cp.  October  eclogue.  Shepherd's 
Calendar. 


32  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

Golde. 

Arts  perish,  wanting  honor  and  applause  .  . 
The  priest  unpaid,  can  neither  sing  nor  say: 
Nor  poets  sweetly  write,  except  they  meet 
With  sound  rewards,  for  sermoning  so  sweet 


In  his  Wits  Misery^^  Lodge  extols  the  "divine  wits,"  Lyly,  Spenser, 
Daniel,  Drayton,  and  Nash,  and  exhorts  them  as  "  unnamed  professors, 
or  friends  of  poetry,"  to  knit  their  "industries  in  private,"  to  unite 
their  "fames  in  public:  let  the  strong  stay  up  the  weak,  and  the  weak 
march  under  conduct  of  the  strong;  and  all  to  imbattle"  themselves  in 
the  virtuous  cause  of  poetry. 

The  fastidious  aloofness  of  those  who  would  differentiate  themselves 
from  the  despised  versifiers  is  exemplified  in  Gabriel  Harvey,  who, 
affecting  supreme  contempt  for  the  "scribbling  rascality,"  is  pompously 
indignant  at  the  surreptitious  publication  of  some  of  his  "  extemporal  "^* 
verses,  which  he  fears  might  expose  him  to  the  possibility  of  being  asso- 
ciated with  the  Eldertonian  riff-raff  with  whom  he  attempts  to  class 
Nash.™  Sir  John  Harington,  disdaining  Puttenham's  imputation  that 
a  translator  is  but  a  versifier,  apparently  considers  himself  sufficiently 
separated  from  the  ordinary  rimester  by  the  character  of  his  work,  though 
some  of  his  friends,  taking  the  attitude  complained  of  by  Puttenham,  had 
"misliked"  his  participation  in  poetry. ^''^ 

Francis  Meres,  voicing  the  elegant  attitude  of  the  time  in  his  quota- 
tion from  Lyly,  "To  the  Gentlemen  Readers"  of  Euphues,  that  "books 
be  stale  when  they  be  printed,  in  that  they  be  common,  "^"^  lauds  the 
sovereigns  of  England  and  Scotland  as  poets  and  patrons  of  poetry, 
though,  in  contrasting  conditions  of  his  own  day  with  the  times  of  bounti- 
ful patronage  in  Greece  and  Rome,  he  deplores  the  lack  of  an  Augustus, 
Octavia,  or  Maecenas  to  "reward  and  countenance"  poets  and  utters 
imprecations  against  his  own  "ingrateful  and  damned  age,"  because 
"for  lack  of  patrons"  it  allows  its  poets  to  be  "solely  or  chiefly  main- 

'*  Works,  vol.  iv,  p.  57. 

»9  Letter-Book  Smith,  i,   125. 

'™  Pierce's  Supererogation,   Smith,   ii,   261. 

»"  Pref.  Orlando  Furioso,  Smith,  ii,   196,  219. 

"-  Palladis  Tamia,  Smith,  ii,  308. 


THE  STATE   OF  POETRY;   CAUSES;   REMEDIES  33 

tained,  countenanced,  and  patronized"  by  means  of  comedians  and  tra- 
gedians.^"^ 

The  want  of  patronage  for  poetry  is  also  deplored  by  Richard  Barn- 
field,  who  in  his  poem  entitled  The  Complaint  of  Poetry  for  the  Death  of 
Liberality^^  (1598)  avers  that  bounty  is  dead  and  complains  strongly 
against  the  avarice  that  denies  patronage.  William  Warner  versifies 
facetiously  of  poets  who  take  their  melancholy  walks  in  threadbare 
coats,  even  nods  to  them  being 

largess  and  but  lost; 
For  Pallas'  hermits  live  secure,  obscure  in  roofs  embost.^"^ 

Samuel  Daniel  notes  the  unfavorable  state  of  literary  patronage  in  his 
declaration,  upon  the  accession  of  James  I,  that  the  times  "promise  a 
more  regard  to  the  present  condition  of  our  writings,  in  respect  to  our 
Sovereign's  happy  inclination  this  way,"  whereby  expecting  encourage- 
ment for  poetry  in  its  existing  course  of  development  he  is  encouraged 
"under  the  patronage  of  a  noble  earl"  to  put  forth  his  book.^°^  In  ver- 
ses to  J.  Florio,  however,  in  1611,  Daniel  complains: 

Would  they  but  be  pleased  to  know  how  small 

A  portion  of  that  overflowing  waste 

Which  runs  from  them,  would  turn  the  wheels,  and  all 

The  frame  of  wit,  to  make  their  glory  last, 

I  think  they  would  do  something;  but  the  stir 

Still  about  greatness,  gives  it  not  the  space 

To  look  out  from  itself,  or  to  confer 

Grace  but  by  chance,  and  as  men  are  in  place.^°^ 

^"^  lb.,  313.     "Poetry,    in  this  latter  age",  says  Ben  Jonson  {Discoveries,  p.  22), 
"hath  proved  but  a  mean  mistress  to  such  as  have  wholly  addicted  themselves  to  her, 
or  given  their  names  up  to  her  family." 
'"^  Complete  Poems,  ed.  Grosart. 

'°^  Heliconia,  iii,  287.    The  indigence  of  poets  due  to  lack  of  patronage  is  satirically 
portrayed  in  the  Pilgrimage  to  Parnassus  (1600). 
™  Defense  of  Rime,  Smith,  ii,  357. 

1"  Verses  prefixed  to  Queen  Anne's  New  World  of  Words.  Daniel,  who  had  less 
cause  for  complaint  than  most  of  the  poets  of  his  day,  expresses  a  lofty  and  courageous 
attitude  in  Musophilus  (1599).     No  matter  if  men 

Neglect,  distaste,  uncomprehend,  disdain. 
No  public  neglect,  says  he,  can  destroy 

The  love  I  bear  unto  this  holy  skill. 
This  is  the  thing  that  I  was  bom  to  do, 
This  is  my  scene,  this  part  must  I  fulfdl. 


34  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

The  view  that  poetry  in  the  age  of  Elizabeth  suffered  from  lack  of 
recognition  and  reward  by  wealthy  and  noble  patrons,  though  partially 
derived  by  the  critics  from  their  academic  contemplations  of  illustrious 
examples  of  literary  patronage  among  the  ancients,  whom  they  held  up 
for  emulation,  was  not  merely  an  academic  speculation;  for  those  that 
complained  most  bitterly  were  men  like  Spenser,  who  were  affected  most 
keenly  by  the  neglect.  Reluctantly  hazarding  their  dignity  and  social 
esteem  by  publishing  the  "outflowing  of  their  wit"  at  all,  they  found  it 
bitterly  humiliating  to  do  so  without  receiving  the  recognition  that  would 
distinguish  them  from  "knights  of  a  lower  order,"  namely,  the  rabble  of 
poet-apes.  Thus  it  was  deemed  by  the  critics  that  poetry  was  seriously 
hampered  by  the  failure  of  those  in  high  place  to  grant  encouragement 
and  adequate  reward  to  those  who  had  the  talent  to  elevate  the  art  and 
become   its  fitting  representatives. 

The  handicap  to  poetry  by  the  refusal  of  men  of  highest  rank  and 
talent  to  participate  in  it,  or  at  least  to  publish  their  writings,  was  so 
keenly  felt  by  the  critics  that  when  they  considered  a  champion  had 
entered  the  field  their  joy  was  great,  and  high  their  laudation.  By  this 
patriotic  laudation  and  by  exhortations  to  publish  further,  the  best  and 
noblest  wits  were  encouraged  and  pressed  to  enlist  in  the  cause  of  poetry. 
Further  stimulus  was  afforded  by  the  idea  promulgated  in  such  books  as 
Castiglione's  Courtier  that  a  courtier  should  be  a  man  of  letters.  Still 
the  critics  complained  that  to  the  detriment  of  the  art  of  poetry  gentle 
and  cultured  men  had  "  no  courage  to  write, "  or  were  "  loath  to  be  known 
of  their  skill. "  The  aristocracy  of  culture  could  not  be  persuaded,  even 
for  the  protection  of  the  noble  heritage  of  poetic  art,  to  stoop  to  a  contest 
with  vulgar  inferiors.  That  democratic  institution  the  printing  press 
was  forcing  the  literary  life  of  the  age  to  face  a  most  perplexing  problem, 
for  through  its  instrumentality  poetry  was  being  degraded  and  only 
through  its  instrumentality  could  poetry  be  saved  and  given  force  in 
the  nation.  Nicholas  Ling,  among  others,  attempts  in  behalf  of  poetry 
to  overcome  the  aristocratic  objections  to  publication,  declaring  that  if 
men,  in  prizing  their  birth  or  fortune,  should  scorn  to  be  placed  beside 
meaner  men,  they  should  remember  that  wits  are  placed  side  by 
side,  not  men  nor  classes,  and  further  that  poets'  names  have  in  highest 
judgments  been  associated  with  the  "names  of  the  greatest  princes  of  the 
world.  "1°^    The  critics  felt  keenly  the  need  of  men  of  letters  possessing 

'<«  Nicholas  Ling,  "To  the  Reader,  if  Indifferent,"  England's  Helicon,  ed.,  BuUen, 
p.    5. 


THE   STATE   OE   POETRY;   CAUSES;   REMEDIES  35 

the  spirit  of  Ben  Jonson,  writers  who  would  freely  publish  the  fruits  of 
their  genius  and  fight  out  the  battle  against  the  rabble  of  poetasters. 


/ 


Critical  opinion  with  respect  to  the  welfare  of  poetry  may  now  be 
briefly  summed  up.  With  an  awakened  interest  and  an  advancing 
standard  of  excellence,  the  critics  considered  the  state  of  poetry  eminent- 
ly unsatisfactory,  the  art  being  degraded  and  discredited.  Puritanism 
was  not  regarded  as  a  serious  menace  to  non-dramatic  poetry.  The 
welfare  of  poetry,  it  was  deemed,  was  threatened  chiefly  by  the  partici- 
pation of  men  whose  work  debased  and  disgraced  the  art.  A  further 
source  of  evil  was  found  in  an  undiscriminating  multitude  of  readers 
whose  uncultured  taste  fostered  low  ideals  and  inferior  work.  In  con- 
sequence of  these  conditions  and  on  account  of  inadequate  recognition 
and  reward  of  real  poets  by  wealthy  and  noble  patrons,  men  of  highest 
standing  and  ability  were  reluctant  to  employ  their  talent  toward  the 
desired  advancement  and  elevation  of  poetic  art.  In  the  view  of  the 
critics,  poetry  was  indeed  severely  handicapped. 

The  struggle  for  poetry,  as  it  is  reflected  in  the  critical  writings  of  the 
period,  instead  of  having  been  chiefly  a  conflict  between  ethical  ideals 
and    esthetic    ideals,    a    conflict    against    puritanism,    seems    rather 
to  have  been  chiefly  a  conflict  between  the  demoralizing  practice  of  a 
rabble  of  versifiers  fostered  by  the  bad  taste  of  the  people,  and  the  ad- 
vancing critical  standard  of  men  of  culture  and  poetic  talent,  the  main 
concern  of  the  latter  being  to  check  the  abuses  of  the  art  and  at  the  same 
time  to  labor  for  its  perfection.     In  other  words,  the  conflict  during  the  u^ 
reign  of  Elizabeth  was  less  on  ethical  and  religious  grounds  than  on  social  '•" 
and  esthetic  grounds.     The  critics  and  men  of  letters  without  exception    "^ 
evidently  directed  their  energies  not  against  what  Sir  John  Harington 
calls  the  "very  weak  faction"  "that  condemn  all  poetry,"  but  against 
the  "ravenous  rabble"  that  "pitifully  mangled  and  defaced"  it. 

III.  Remedies 

/.  Improve — Honor  the  Science 

The  attitude  that  prompted  the  critics  to  animadvert  on  the  causes 
of  the  unsatisfactory  state  of  poetry  led  them  likewise  to  cast  about  for 
remedies.  The  critical  discrimination  that  gave  rise  to  dissatisfaction 
with  existing  conditions  bred  desire  for  change  and  improvement;  and, 
instead  of  being  discouraged  at  the  outlook,  the  critics  were  imbued 
with  an  optimistic,  militant  spirit  of  reform  and  uplift,  with  forward- 


36  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

looking  thoughts,  confident  that  faults  could  be  amended,  abuses  cor- 
rected, and  poetry  saved  and  elevated  to  a  station  worthy  of  its  essen- 
tially high  and  noble  nature.  With  an  increasing  number  able  "to  dis- 
cern between  good  writers  and  bad,"^  between  poets  and  versifiers,  the 
watchword  came  to  be,  "correct  the  abuse,  honor  the  science."^ 

Remedies  of  course  were  suggested  to  the  critics,  as  has  already  been 
noticed,  by  the  very  conditions  that  were  deemed  detrimental.  Poetry 
being  abused  and  disgraced,  the  abuses  should  be  corrected,  the  enormi- 
ties wiped  out.  The  "rakehelly  rout"  must  be  discredited  and  silenced, 
and  so  far  as  possible  the  bad  taste  of  the  "uncapable  multitude"  re- 
formed and  improved.  The  talent  of  the  "best  wits"  must  be  attracted 
to  poetry  and  encouraged  by  adequate  patronage.  In  short,  poetic  art 
must  be  wrested  from  the  perversions  of  the  ignorant  and  vulgar  and  put 
into  the  hands  of  scholars  and  gentlemen,  more  worthy  ideals  and  a 
higher  standard  must  be  made  to  prevail,  the  whole  spirit  and  concep- 
tion of  poetry  must  be  exalted,  its  importance  magnified,  and  the  art, 
reinvested  with  something  of  its  ancient  mystery,  conserved  for  the  high- 
est uses. 

Manifestations  of  this  positive,  upward  critical  attitude  begin  early 
and  may  be  noted  throughout  the  period.  Dissatisfaction  with  existing 
standards  in  England  and  desire  for  improvement  were  evidently  bred 
by  the  growing  acquaintance  with  foreign  literature.  The  Latin  poets, 
Elyot  asserts  in  the  Governor^  (1531),  express  themselves  "incomparably 
with  more  grace  and  delectation  to  the  reader  than  our  English  tongue 
may  yet  comprehend."  Ascham  in  his  preface  to  Toxophilus  (1545) 
puts  the  case  still  more  strongly:  "And  as  for  the  Latin  or  Greek  tongue, 
everything  is  so  excellently  done  in  them  that  none  can  do  better:  in  the 
English  tongue  contrary,  everything  in  a  manner  so  meanly,  both  for  the 
matter  and  handling,  that  no  man  can  do  worse."  Even  such  celebri- 
ties as  Hawes  and  Skelton  were  painfully  conscious  of  inferiority  and 
frequently  apologized  for  their  rude  diction  and  lack  of  poetic  power. 
The  spirit  of  advancement  was  not  confined  to  classical  devotees,  and  an 
interesting  example  of  the  combination  of  crudeness  and  aspiration  for 
the  improvement  of  English  poetry  occurs  in  such  verses  as  the  following 
by  an  early  balladist. 

'  Webbe,  Smith,  i,  227. 

'Lodge,  Smith,  i,   78. 

'Jos.  Lilly's  Black  Letter  Ballads,  pp.   207-8. 


THE   STATE   OF  POETRY;   CAUSES;   REMEDIES  37 

All  them   that  will  address 
Their  pen  to  metres,  let  them  not  spare 
To  follow  Chaucer,  a  man  very  rare, 
Lydgate,  Wager,  Barclay  and  Bale, 
With  many  other  that  excellent  are. 
In  these  our  days,  extant  to  sale. 
Let  writers  not  covet  the  bottom  or  dale, 
If  they  may  come  to  the  hill  or  brink  .^ 

Tottel  in  putting  forth  his  Miscellany  exhorts  his  readers  to  educate 
themselves  to  an  appreciation  of  the  elevated  standard  represented  in 
his  book,  and  editors  of  later  miscellanies  evince  similar  aims  for  the 
advancement  of  poetry.  Golding  and  Phaer  as  early  translators  are 
enthusiastic  to  "enrich  our  tongue"^  and  increase  the  poetic  possibilities 
of  English  speech.  A  similar  spirit  is  shown  by  Turbervile,  whose 
"chief  characteristic  is  his  deliberate  attempt  to  polish  and  harmonize 
the  language,"^  and  who  warmly  praises  Surrey  in  that 

Our  tongue  by  him  hath  got  such  light 
As  ruder  speech  thereby  is  banished  quite.'' 

Ascham  aims  at  the  improvement  of  poetry  in  his  earnest  appeal  in  the 
Schoolmaster  for  more  intelligent  and  discriminating  imitation  of  classical 
models;  and  Stanyhurst  shows  a  well-intentioned  zeal  to  follow  "Master 
Ascham's  will"  by  applying  his  wit  "in  beautifying  our  English  language 
with  heroical  verses,"  thereby  hoping  "to  advance  the  riches  of  our 
speech."* 

The  high  ideals  of  Spenser — whose  genius  covered  "the  movement 
developed  by  the  Euphuists  for  the  refinement  of  the  national  lan- 
guage"^ and  who  seems  consciously  to  have  labored  to  improve  poetic 
taste^'^ — are  best  shown  by  his  actual  performance.  In  a  letter  to  Harvey, 
however,  he  expresses  his  exacting  sense  of  a  high  standard  in  his  fear 
lest  the  refined  taste  of  "his  excellent  Lordship"  (Sidney?)  might  be 

^Bk.  I,  chap,  xiii,  p.   129. 

^  Golding,  Epistle  to  Robert,  Earl  of  Leicester  (Transl.  Ovid).  Cf.  Phaer,  Warton's 
Hist.   Eng.   Poetry,   iv,   221. 

'  Courthope,  Hist.  Eng.  Poetry,  ii,   158. 

'  Chalmers'  English  Poets,  ii,  588. 

8  Ded.  Aeneid,  Smith,  i,  1.^7,  138. 

'  Courthope,   op.   cit.,   ii,   234. 

'"  Courthope,   Cambridge  History,   iii,   276. 


38  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

shocked  at  the  baseness  of  his  Shepherd's  Calendar;  and  later  in  intro- 
ducing his  Faery  Queen  to  the  elegant  readers  of  the  Court  he  deprecates 
the  rudeness  and  savageness  of  his  production.  E.  K.,  however,  ap- 
preciative of  the  delicate  beauties  of  the  former  work  and  eager  that 
poetic  taste  may  be  promoted  by  due  recognition  of  them,  takes  pains  to 
point  out  excellencies  that  otherwise  might  escape  the  "  unskillful  reader. " 
He  is  also  solicitous  to  have  others  "labor  to  garnish  and  beautify "^^ 
English  poetic  style. 

Sidney,  whose  impelling  motive  in  his  Apology  is  with  reference  to 
establishing  more  worthy  ideals  and  better  practice  in  poetry,  likewise 
desires  to  arouse  ambition  "to  beautify  our  mother  tongue, "^^  and  with 
Horace^'  he  condemns  mediocrity  in  poets.  In  this  treatise,  as  well  as  in 
his  poems,  he  labors  ardently  to  exalt  the  whole  conception  of  poetry, 
evidently  deeming  that  better  ideals  as  to  the  nature  and  function  of  the 
art  must  prevail  before  it  could  take  its  true  position  in  the  national  life. 

With  a  much  narrower  view  but  no  less  zeal,  Webbe — placing  his 
hope  for  improvement  largely  in  classical  versification — exhorts  the 
"learned  laureate  masters  of  England"  to  wipe  out  the  enormities  of 
English  poetry  and  to  win  credit  for  their  native  speech,  confident  that 
if  such  men  would  set  "  their  helping  hands  to  poetry"  they  would  " much 
beautify  and  adorn  it."  With  faith  in  the  "meetness  of  our  speech  to 
receive  the  best  form  of  poetry"  and  trusting  that  it  might  gradually 
"be  brought  to  the  very  majesty  of  a  right  heroical  verse, "  he  is  eager  to 
enlist  poets  in  labor  that  would  "adorn  their  country  and  advance  their 
style  with  the  highest  and  most  learnedest  top  of  true  poetry."^*  Ambi- 
tious for  elevation  of  poetry,  such  as  has  been  gained  for  prose  by  the 
eloquence  of  Euphuism,  he  avers  that  the  aim  of  his  work  is  to  stir  up 
such  interest  that  the  improvement  of  poetry  may  be  "taken  in  hand" 
by  some  of  "the  famous  poets  of  London"  in  order  that  the  art  may  be 

put  "at  a  higher  price"  and  "the  rabble  of  bald  rimes turned  to 

famous   works.  "^^ 

Puttenham,  interested  like  the  rest  in  asserting  the  dignity  and 
importance  of  poetry,  declares  that  it  "ought  not  to  be  abased  and 

"  Ded.    Shepherd's    Calendar. 

"2  Smith,  i,   152. 

"  lb.,  166. 

^*  Discourse,   Smith,   i,   228,   229,   246. 

^^  lb.,  301.  Gabriel  Harvey  in  1592  thinks  that  he  perceives  —  not  in  himself, 
but  in  a  few  others — "the  grounded  and  winged  hope,  which is  the  ascend- 
ing scale  and  milk-way  to  heavenly  excellency"  (Smith,  ii,  284). 


THE  STATE  OF  POETRY;  CAUSES;  REMEDIES  39 

employed  upon  any  unworthy  matter  and  subject. '*^^  He  seeks  to 
promote  the  art  by  holding  up  for  honor  and  emulation  poets  who  by 
"their  thankful  studies"  have  "so  much  beautified  our  English  tongue," 
extoUing  among  others  Wyatt  and  Surrey  as  "the  first  reformers  of  our 
English  metre  and  style"  and  commending  their  services  in  polishing 
"our  rude  homely  manner  of  vulgar  poesy  from  that  it  had  been 
before.  "^^  This  method  of  gaining  credit  for  poetry  by  praising 
its  exemplars,  commonly  employed  by  the  critics,  is  also  used 
by  Harvey,  who,  evidently  in  earnest  in  his  desire  to  promote  and 
uplift  the  art,  holds  up  for  emulation  "noble  Sir  Philip  Sidney  and 
gentle  Master  Spenser"  and  presumes  "affectionately"  to  thank  these 
and  other  sons  of  the  Muses  "for  their  studious  endeavors,  commendably 
employed  in  enriching  and  polishing  their  native  tongue.  "^^  Thomas 
Churchyard,  in  seventeen  pages  of  verses  on  A  Praise  of  Poetry^^  (1595), 
also  adds  his  voice  in  an  attempt  to  serve  the  cause  of  poetry,  which  in 
Harvey's  opinion  he  helped  to  degrade. 

Although  Samuel  Daniel,  writing  at  the  end  of  the  reign  of  Elizabeth 
with  a  feeling  as  to  the  security  of  poetry  lacking  in  earlier  critics,  is  for 

"plodding  on  the  plain  tract beaten  by  custom  and  the  time," 

deeming  that  we  shall  best  "tend  to  perfection"  "by  going  on  in  the 
course  we  are  in";  yet  he  earnestly  desires  improvement,  and  urges  the 
poets  of  his  time  not  to  be  discouraged  by  an  attack  such  as  Campion's 
(against  rime),  but  rather  to  be  animated  by  the  opposition  "to  bring  up 
all  the  best  of  their  powers"  and  to  strive  "with  all  the  strength  of 
nature  and  industry  "^°  to  lift  poetry  above  reproach  and  make  it  a 
source  of  national  pride  and  welfare. 

The  desire  of  the  critics  for  the  improvement  of  poetry ,^^  arising  from 
a  growing  ability  to  discriminate  between  good  and  bad  and  centering 

^^  Art  of  English  Poesy,  Smith,  ii,  24.     Cp.  Shakespeare,  Sonnet  100: 

Spend 'st  thou  thy  fury  on  some  worthless  song, 

Dark'ning  thy  power  to  lend  base  subjects  light? 

Return,  forgetful  Muse,  and  straight  redeem 

In  gentle  numbers  time  so  idly  spent. 
"lb.,    62-63. 
18  Four  Letters  (1592),  Smith,  ii,  234.' 
"  Censura  Lit.,   Brydges,   i,   295. 
=0  Defense  of  Rime,  Smith,  ii,  373-4,  380. 

^1  The  idea  of  the  inevitable  progress  of  poetry,  which  at  the  end  of  the  century 
had  ground  in  accomplishment  as  well  as  in  aspiration,  is  reflected  in  the  thought  of 
the  great  master  poet  of  the  time  (Sonnet  XXXII): 


40  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

in  a  determination  to  discredit  inferiority  and  elevate  the  poetic  standard, 
manifested  itself,  as  has  been  seen,  in  various  ways.  Even  in  the  mere 
perception  of  detrimental  conditions  lay  hope  of  betterment,  for  defects 
and  abuses  being  apprehended  they  might  be  corrected.  In  seeking  to 
bring  about  the  improvement  of  poetry,  therefore,  the  critics  employed 
their  energies  upon  various  remedies.  They  labored  to  exalt  the  whole 
conception  of  poetry,  condemning  all  that  they  considered  low,  crude, 
and  inferior,  and  extolling  all  that  they  considered  high,  refined,  and  ex- 
cellent. They  used  all  possible  means  to  discredit  the  abusers  of  the  art 
and  to  honor  those  who  graced  it.  Turning  their  backs  upon  barbarism, 
they  encouraged  the  endeavors  of  poets  to  polish,  refine,  and  beautify 
poetic  language  and  style.  They  insisted  upon  the  necessity  of  imitat- 
ing the  best  models  native  or  foreign,  for  the  most  part,  however,  advo- 
cating the  imitation  of  the  masterpieces  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans, 
some  in  their  zeal  proposing  to  impose  upon  English  poetry  the  classical 
metres,  a  strong  motive  here  being  the  desire  not  only  to  refine  the  art 
but  to  put  it  out  of  reach  of  ignorant  practitioners.  Further  remedies 
that  receive  special  attention  from  the  critics — and  to  be  dealt  with  in 
pages  following — were  the  appeal  to  patriotism,  the  conservation  of 
poetry  by  restricting  it  to  the  domains  of  learning  and  circles  of  social 
distinction,  and  the  attempt  to  advance  the  art  by  furnishing  its  more 
worthy  representatives  with  the  best  possible  instruction.  In  all  this 
the  critics  were  animated  by  an  earnest  desire  to  lift  English  poetry  above 
mediocrity  and  attain  for  it  the  highest  possible  standard  of  excellence, 
to  find  the  ways  that  "tend  to  perfection." 

2.  The  Appeal  to  Patriotism 

In   their  endeavors   to   remedy  unfavorable   conditions  and   uplift 
English  poetry,  the  critics  constantly  appealed  to  national  pride — a 

These  poor  rude  lines  of  they  deceased  lover, 

Compare  them  with  the  bett'ring  of  the  time, 

And   though   they   be   outstripp'd   by  every  pen, 

Reserve  them  for  my  love,  not  for  their  rime, 

Exceeded  by  the  height  of  happier  men. 

O,  then  vouchsafe  me  but  this  loving  thought: 

"Had  my  friends  Muse  grown   with   this  growing  age, 

A  dearer  birth  than  this  his  love  had  brought, 

To   march   in    ranks   of   better   equipage; 

But  since  he  died  and  poets  better  prove, 

Theirs  for  their  style  I'll  read,  his  for  his  love." 


THE   STATE   OF   POETRY;   CAUSES;   REMEDIES  41 

Strong  force  in  Elizabethan  times  and  abundantly  manifested  in  creative 
literature  as  well  as  in  criticism.  The  growing  national  consciousness 
that  aroused  concern  for  England's  standing  in  poetry  bred  a  desire  to 
emulate  and  surpass  the  poetic  art  of  other  nations.  Inferiority  was 
intolerable  and  oftentimes  patriotic  zeal  impelled  the  critics  to  close 
their  eyes  to  "barbarism"  and  the  "ragged  rout"  of  English  rimers  and 
vaunt  the  superior  excellence  of  English  poets,  though  at  other  times 
they  were  quite  as  zealously  patriotic  in  crying  down  the  rabble  of  versi- 
fiers whom  they  considered  a  disgrace  to  the  nation.  Indeed  the  critics, 
in  their  attempts  to  enlist  able  representatives  in  the  cause  of  poetry, 
were  prompted  by  the  twofold  motive  of  emulating  and  overgoing 
foreign  rivals  and  silencing  the  poet-apes  at  home. 

This  motive  of  arousing  patriotism  in  behalf  of  English  poetry  appears 
at  the  very  beginning  of  the  period  in  Tottel's  introduction  to  his  Mis- 
cellany, in  which  the  dominant  idea  is  "  the  honor  of  the  English  tongue, " 
with  faith  that  "our  tongue  is  able  in  that  kind  to  do  as  praise  worthily 
as  the  rest.  "^"  Ascham — whose  interest  in  the  practical  values  of 
"imitation"  affords  wholesome  lessons  for  modern  source  hunters — 
likewise  is  eager  that  England  should  emulate  the  literary  achievements 
of  Italy  and  the  ancients ;^^  and  in  Toxophilus  he  loyally  writes  "English 
matter  in  the  English  tongue  for  EngUsh  men."  Gascoigne  follows 
Ascham  in  defending  his  mother  tongue  against  undesirable 
foreign  influences  and  advocates  monosyllables  on  the  ground  that 
"  the  more  monosyllables  that  you  use  the  truer  EngHshman  you  shall 
seem."-'*  E.  K.  is  also  loyal  on  the  point  of  diction,  praising  Spenser 
for  laboring  to  restore  to  their  rightful  heritage  good  old  English  words, 
and  objecting  to  the  attempts  of  others  to  patch  up  English  with  the 
"pieces  and  rags  of  other  languages. "^^  One  of  his  reasons  for  adding 
his  gloss  to  the  Shepherd's  Calendar  is  to  compete  with  "the  learned  of 
other  nations."  Spenser  himself,  though  skillfully  and  elusively, 
everywhere  following  Italian  and  French  authors,  as  E.  K.  proudly 
acknowledges,  manifests  throughout  a  spirit  of  patriotic  aspiration,  and 

^  Saintsbury  says  of  an  earlier  period,  "Hawes  and  his  generation  were  not  alto- 
gether uncritically  endeavoring  at  what  was  'important  to  thetn' — the  strengthening 
and  enriching,  namely,  of  EngHsh  vocabulary,  and  extension  of  Enghsh  literary  prac- 
tice and  stock"  {Hist.  Crit.  ii,  147). 

^  Schoolmaster,   Smith,  i,  34,  35. 

^  Notes  of  Instruction,  Smith,  i,  51. 

26  Smith,    i,    129-30. 


42  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

particularly  when  in  his  letter  to  Harvey  he  "flatly  professed"  his 
ambition  to  "  overgo  "^^  Ariosto. 

Harvey  notably  evinces  the  jealous  ambition  of  English  men  of 
letters  to  emulate  and  surpass  the  other  nations  of  Europe.  Italy, 
Spain,  and  France,  he  declares,  are  ravished  with  the  "glorious  and 
ambitious  desire  to  set  out  and  advance  their  own  languages  above  the 
very  Greek  and  Latin,  if  it  were  possible. "  Glorying  in  their  "exquisite 
forms  of  speech,  carrying  a  certain  brave,  magnificent  grace  and  majes- 
ty," they  repose  a  "great  part  of  their  sovereign  glory  and  reputation 
abroad  in  the  world  in  the  famous  writings  of  their  noblest  wits."  It 
has  "universally  been  the  practice,"  continues  Harvey,  of  the  most 
flourishing  and  poUtic  states  "to  make  the  very  most  of  their  vulgar 
tongues,"  and  "by  all  means  possible  to  amplify  and  enlarge  them, 
devising  all  ordinary  and  extraordinary  helps,  both  for  the  polishing  and 
refining  them  at  home,  and  also  for  the  spreading  and  dispersing  of  them 
abroad. "^^  EngUshmen  were  now  participating  in  this  spirit.  "Who 
can  tell,"  asks  Harvey  enthusiastically,  supposing  the  existence  of  the 
proper  spirit  of  emulation,  "what  comparison  this  tongue  might  wage 
with  the  most  flourishing  languages  of  Europe?  "^^    England  may  exult 

=6  Smith,  i,  116.     Cp.  Hall,  Satires,  Bk.  I,  Satire  IV: 

Renowned     Spenser:    whom    no     earthly     wight 
Dares  once  to  emulate,  much  less  despite. 
Salust   of   France,    and   Tuscan   Ariost 
Yield    up    the    laurel   garland    ye    have   lost. 

And  Polimanteia  (ed.  Grosart,  p.  44):  "Let  other  countries  (sweet  Cambridge)  envy 
(yet  admire)  my  Virgil,  thy  Petrarch,  divine  Spenser. "  The  motive  of  patriotic 
pride  is  also  shown  in  Meres'  " Compiarative  Discourse  of  our  English  Poets  with 
the  Greek,  Latin,  and  Italian  Poets." 

2'  Letter  Book,  ed.  E.  J.  L.  Scott,  p.  65. 

2'  Smith,  ii,  282,  283.  An  interesting  suggestion  comes  from  Sir  Philip  Sidney, 
the  courtier-soldier,  to  the  effect  that  war  might  afford  the  desired  stimulus  for  poetry 
in  England:  "For  heretofore  poets  have  in  England  also  flourished;  and,  which  is  to  be 
noted,  even  in  those  times  when  the  trumpet  of  Mars  did  sound  loudest.     And  now  .  .  . 

.     .    an  over-faint  quietness  should  seem  to  strew  the  house  for  poets 

Truly  even  that,  as  of  the  one  side  it  giveth  great  praise  to  poesy,  which  like  Venus 
(but  to  better  purpose)  had  rather  be  troubled  in  the  net  with  Mars  than  enjoy  the 
homely  quiet  of  Vulcan;  so  serves  it  for  a  piece  of  a  reason  why  they  are  less  grateful  to 
idle  England"  {Apology,  Smith,  i,  194).  The  idea  is  also  expressed  by  Spenser.  In 
reply  to  Piers'  suggestion  {Shepherd's  Calendar,  October  Eclogue)  to  "sing  of  bloody 
Mars,  of  wars,  of  giusts,"  Cuddle  complains  that 

all  the  worthies  liggen  wrapt  in  lead. 
That  matter  made  for  poets  on  to  play. 


THE   STATE   OF   POETRY;   CAUSES;   REMEDIES  43 

in  her  "English  Ariosto, "  but  she  should  be  ill-content  without  her 
Tasso  and  her  Du  Bartas. 

Patriotic  motives  are  frequently  avowed  by  translators  and  linguists, 
Golding,  Phaer,  and  Stanyhurst  all  asserting  such  aims  as  that  of  the 
last  named  in  his  translation  of  Virgil,  "for  the  honor  of  the  EngHsh. "^^ 
Richard  Mulcaster — who  as  Spenser's  old  teacher  possibly  influenced  the 
latter 's  ideas  on  diction — emphasizing  his  entire  faith  in  the  mother 
tongue,  declares  loyally,  "I  favor  Italy,  but  England  more,  I  honor  the 
Latin,  but  I  worship  the  English,"^" — and  again,  "Why  not  everything 
in  English? "^^  A  stanza  by  Arthur  Golding,  "which  was  prefixed  to  a 
dictionary  near  the  middle  of  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,"  expresses  like 
'  loyalty  and  ambition  for  the  English  language: 

No  doubt  but  men  shall  shortly  find  there  is 
As  perfect  order,  as  firm  certainty, 
As  grounded  rules  to  try  out  things  amiss. 
As  much  sweet  grace,  as  great  variety 
Of  words  and  phrases,  as  good  quality 
For  verse  or  prose  in  English  every  way 
As  any  common  language  hath  this  day.^^ 

Webbe,  encouraging  and  holding  up  for  emulation  efforts  for  the 
honor ^of  English  poetry,  warmly  commends  "Master  Arthur  Golding, 
for  his  labor  in  Englishing  Ovid's  Metamorphoses  and  for  being  "ad- 
dicted," with  "infinite  pains"  and  "without  society,"  "to  profit  this 
nation  and  speech."  He  also  praises  Phaer  for  his  laudable  work  in 
translating  Virgil  and  thinks  that  he  deserves  equal  commendation  with 
Golding  in  his  efforts  "for  the  beautifying  of  the  English  speech."^'  To 
Spenser  he  gives  enthusiastic  commendation  for  his  honor  to  Enghsh 

"Mighty  manhood"  on  a  "bed  of  ease"  affords  no  inspiration.  Further,  CUo  in 
Tears  of  the  Muses  deplores  the  dearth  of  "noble  feats"  and  laments  that  there  is 
"nothing  worthy  to  be  writ",  while  CalUope  grieves  that  there  is  naught  upon  which  to 
exercise  her  "heroic  style",  because  men  have  "desire  of  worthy  deeds  forlome. " 
Cp.  Shakespeare:  "Learning  and  good  letters,  peace  hath  tutor 'd"  (II  Henry  IV,  IV, 
i,  44);" Peace,  dear  nurse  of  arts"  {Henry  V,  V,  ii,  35);  "This  peace  is  nothing  but  to 
breed  ballad-makers"   {Coriolanus,  IV,  V,  235). 

29  Ded.   Aeneid,   Smith,   i,    138. 

^"  Elementary  (1582);  of.  Einstein's  Italian  Renaissance  in  England,  p.  164. 

''  Jusserand's   Lit.   Hist.,   ii,   360. 

^2  Poetical  Decameron,  J.  P.  CoUier,  i,  xxii. 

^Discourse,  Smith,  i,  243,  262. 


44  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

poetry  in  the  Shepherd's  Calendar,  concluding  that,  were  it  not  for  "  the 
coarseness  of  our  speech,"  the  English  poet  might  have  equalled  or  pos- 
sibly surpassed  Theocritus  or  Virgil,  and  regretting  that  his  other  works 
are  not  "common  abroad,"  for  if  they  were  he  has  faith  that  English 
poets  might  be  matched  with  the  best.^"*     With  this  ambition  at  heart 

he  exhorts  the  laureate  masters  of    England  to  "consult with 

their  heavenly  Muse  what  credit  they  might  win  to  their  native  speech," 
being  persuaded  that,  had  their  energies  been  exerted  in  the  right  direc- 
tion, English  poetry  "would  long  ere  this  have  aspired  to  as  full  perfec- 
tion as  in  any  other  tongue  whatsoever,"  and  that  it  is  possible  for  Eng- 
lish poets  so  to  enlarge  "  the  credit  of  their  native  speech  "  that  its  "  poetry 
should  not  stoop  to  the  best  of  them  all. "  Most  of  all,  he  desires  that 
the  poets  might  so  "adorn  their  country"  as  to  overcome  the  "reproach 
of  barbarousness.  "^^  In  fact  Webbe  avows  that  the  chief  purpose  of 
his  discourse  is  to  gain  for  poetry  such  interest  and  support  as  to  turn 

"the  rabble  of  bald  rimes"  to  famous  works,   "comparable with 

the  best  works  of  poetry  in  other  tongues.  "^^ 

The  critics,  it  is  evident,  though  keenly  conscious  of  the  more  sinister 
aspect  of  English  poetry,  when  touched  by  patriotic  emulation  are  quick 
to  turn  the  picture  and  make  the  best  of  what  they  have.  Nash,  for 
instance,  in  refuting  "our  English  Italians,"  who  say  that  "the  finest 
wits  our  climate  sends  forth  are  but  dry-brained  dolts,  in  comparison  of 
other  countries,"  is  sure  that  Chaucer,  Lydgate,  and  Gower  "have 
vaunted  their  metres  with  as  much  admiration  in  English  as  ever  the 
proudest  Ariosto  did  his  verse  in  Italian.  "^^  He  thinks  that  if  Phaer's 
heavenly  muse  had  "not  been  blemisht  by  his  haughty  thoughts,  Eng- 
land might  long  have  insulted  in  his  wit";  and,  coming  to  "our  Court," 
he  deems  that  "the  otherwhile  vacations  of  our  graver  nobility  are 
prodigal  of  more  pompous  wit  and  choice  of  words  than  ever  tragic 
Tasso  could  attain  to."  With  chivalric  ardor  he  is  ready,  "should  the 
challenge  of  deep  conceit  be  intruded  by  a  foreigner  to  bring  our  English 
wits  to  the  touchstone  of  art,"  to  "prefer  divine  Master  Spenser,  the 
miracle  of  wit,  to  bandy  line  for  line  for  my  life  in  honor  of  England, 

^Ib.,  232,   263. 

35/6.,   228,    229,   278,   279. 

^Ib.,    301. 

"  Pref.    Menaphon,    Smith,    i,    318. 


THE   STATE   OF   POETRY;   CAUSES;   REMEDIES  45 

gainst  Spain,  France,  Italy,  and  all  the  world.  "^^  In  his  Anatomy  of 
Absurdity,  however,  Nash  presents  the  darker  side,  and,  still  filled  with 
patriotic  fervor,  indignantly  denounces  the  "babbling  ballets,  and  our 
new  found  songs  and  sonnets,  which  every  red-nose  fiddler  hath  at  his 
fingers'  end,  and  every  ignorant  ale  knight  will  breathe  forth  over  the  pot, 
as  soon  as  his  brain  waxeth  hot."  And  now  with  concern  for  the  poetic 
reputation  of  his  nation  he  continues,  "Were  it  that  the  infamy  of  their 
ignorance  did  redound  only  upon  themselves,  I  could  be  content  to  apply 
my  speech  otherwise  than  to  their  Apuleyan  ears;  but  sith  they  obtain 
the  name  of  our  English  poets,  and  thereby  make  men  think  more  basely 
of  the  wits  of  our  country,  I  cannot  but  turn  them  out  of  their  counter- 
feit livery  and  brand  them  in  the  forehead  that  all  men  may  know  their 
falsehood.  "^^ 

The  work  of  Puttenham  in  behalf  of  poetry  is  inspired  largely  by 
motives  of  patriotism,  one  of  the  main  purposes  of  his  treatise  being  to 
inculcate  the  ambitious  idea  that  "there  may  be  an  art  of  our  Enghsh 
poesy,  as  well  as  there  is  of  the  Latin  and  Greek."  Moreover,  he  is  one 
of  the  first  writers  of  the  age  to  avow  something  of  national  pride  in 
rime,  which,  as  an  English  asset  possessing  "instinct  of  nature"  and 
great  antiquity,  he  is  inclined  to  measure  against  the  "artificial"  of  the 
Greeks  and  Romans.'*"  Puttenham  also  gives  space  to  "the  most  com- 
mended writers  in  our  English  poesy"  to  the  intent  that  they  shall  not 
be  defrauded  of  honor  due  them  "for  having  by  their  thankful  studies  so 
much  beautified  our  English  tongue"  and  so  elevated  poetry  that  it  may 
compare  with  that  of  most  other  nations  and  possibly  surpass  that  of 
some  of  them.^^ 

The  attempts  to  stimulate  exertions  toward  excellence  in  English 
poetry  by  appeals  to  national  pride  gradually  give  way  in  the  latter  part 
of  the  century  to  expressions  of  the  feeling  that  the  desired  goal  has  been 
attained.  The  "negligent  persuasion  of  an  impossibility  in  matching 
the  best,"  of  which  Webbe  complained,^^  is  frequently  superseded  by  the 

^  lb.,  315,  318.  To  those  who  demand  wherein  poets  "are  able  to  prove  themselves 
neceseary  to  the  state,"  says  Nash  in  Pierce  Penniless  {Works,  McKerrow,  i,  193), 
"thus  I  answer.     First  and  foremost,  they  have  cleansed  our  language  from  barbarism 

and  made  the  vulgar  sort  here  in  London to  aspire  to  a  richer  purity  of  speech, 

than  is  communicated  with  the  commonalty  of  any  nation  under  heaven." 

35  Smith,  i,  326,  327. 

"''Art  of  English  Poesy,  Smith,  ii,  5,  11. 

«76.,    62. 

*^  Discourse,  Smith,  i,  228. 


46  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

conclusion  expressed  by  Carew  in  his  Epistle  on  the  Excellency  of  the 
English  Tongue  (15^5?)  that  "we  are  within  compass  of  a  fore  imagined 
impossibility.  "^ 

Chapman,  who  like  previous  translators  regards  his  labor  as  an 
attempt  to  honor  the  mother  tongue,  promises  "in  the  next  edition"  of 
his  Homer  "demonstrative  proof  of  our  English  wits  above  beyond  sea 
muses,"'*'*  the  English  language  being  for  the  translation  of  tHe  Greek 
"more  comformable,  fluent,  and  expressive"  than  Italian,  French,  or 
Spanish.  "Our  quidditical  Italianists, "  he  declares  in  disdain,  "shall 
never  do  Homer  so  much  right,  in  any  octaves,  canzons,  canzonets,  or 
whatsoever  fustian  epigraphs  they  shall  entitle  their  measures.  "^^ 
Campion,  though  less  confident  than  Chapman,  has  similar  aspirations. 
"What  honor  were  it  then,"  he  exclaims,  "for  our  English  language  to 
be  the  first  that  after  so  many  years  of  barbarism  could  second  the  per- 
fection of  the  industrious  Greeks  and  Romans  !"^^ 

Daniel,  opposing  Campion  in  the  rime  controversy,  finds  in  rime  a 
ground  for  national  pride,  and  reprehends  Campion  for  having  done 
"wrong  to  England,  in  seeking  to  lay  reproach  upon  her  native  orna- 
ments."^'' The  whole  spirit  of  Daniel's  "Defense"  breathes  loyalty  to 
this  native  poetry;  and  a  large  portion  of  his  own  poetical  writing,  it  may 
be  noted,  is  inspired  by  love  of  country.  Although  he  is  less  narrowly 
prejudiced  against  foreigners  than  most  of  the  earlier  critics,  he  is  as 
ardent  as  any  for  the  renown  of  English  poetry,  and  with  enthusiasm 
looks  forward  to  the  time  when  "great  Sidney  and  our  Spenser"  will  be 
regarded  as  the  equals  of  the  Italian  poets.     In  the  dedication  of  his 

^  Smith,  ii,  292.  Ben  Jonson  compiled  an  English  grammar  to  "shew  the  copy  of 
it  and  matchableness  with  other  tongues." 

"  Pref.  Iliad,  Smith,  ii,  297.  He  puts  the  same  idea  into  verses  prefixed,  "To  the 
Reader": 

And  for  our  tongue  that  still  is  so  impair 'd 
By  traveling  linguists,  I  can  prove  it  clear, 
That  no  tongue  hath  the  muses  utterance  heir'd 
For  verse,  and  that  sweet  music  to  the  ear 
Strook   out   of   rime,   so   naturally   as   this. 

«/t.,  300,  306-7. 

^  Observations,  Smith,  ii,  332 .  A  fact  too  little  recognized  by  scholars  is  noted  by 
Upham  {French  Influence  in  Elizabethan  Literature,  pp.  36,  38),  namely,  that  study 

and  experimentation  in  classical  verse  forms  had  an  end  "far  more  vital than 

the  measuring  of  Enghsh  quantities";  "the  real  impulse  prompting  to  such  study 
was  a  national  and  patriotic  one." 

^'  Defense  of  Rime,  Smith,  ii,  379. 


THE   STATE   OF   POETRY;   CAUSES;   REMEDIES  47 

Cleopatra  to  the  Countess  of  Pembroke  he  writes,  with  a  patriotic  fervor 

befitting  one  of  these  great  ones: 

O  that  the  ocean  did  not  bound  our  style 
Within  these  strict  and  narrow  Umits  so: 
But  that  the  melody  of  our  sweet  Isle 
Might  now  be  heard  to  Tiber,  Arne,  and  Po: 
That  they  might  know  how  far  Thames  doth  outgo 
The  music  of  declined  Italy  F 

Zealous  for  the  honor  of  England  he  writes  with  prophetic  vision  in 

Musophilus: 

Should  we  this  ornament  of  glory  then. 

As  th'  unmaterial  fruits  of  shades  neglect? 

Or  should  we  careless  come  behind  the  rest 

In  powers  of  words  that  go  before  in  worth, 

Whereas  our  accents,  equal  to  the  best, 

Is  able  greater  wonders  to  bring  forth, 

When  all  that  ever  hotter  spirits  exprest 

Comes  bettered  by  the  patience  of  the  North. 

And  who  in  time  knows  whither  we  may  vent. 

The  treasure  of  our  tongue,  to  what  strange  shores 

This  gain  of  our  best  glory  shall  be  sent, 

T'  enrich  unknowing  nations  with  our  stores? 

All  this  vaunting  of  English  poets  and  poetry,  in  which  due  allowance 
must  be  made  for  EUzabethan  self-sufficiency  and  braggadocio,  may  not 
seem  wholly  in  accord  with  the  insistent  complaints  of  the  critics  as  to  the 
unhappy  state  of  poetry  in  England  due  to  its  degradation  by  rimesters 
and  the  neglect  of  better  poets.  The  apparent  inconsistency,  however, 
is  reconciled  by  the  fact  that  patriotic  declarations  of  the  superiority  of 
English  poetry  in  a  number  of  instances,  as  in  case  of  Nash  and  Webbe, 

^  Works,  iii,  26.     Drayton  {England's  Hcrokal  Epistles)  makes  Surrey  say: 
Though  to  the  Tuscan  I  the  smoothness  grant, 
Our  dialect  no   majesty  doth   want, 
To  set  thy  praises  in  as  high  a  key, 
As  France,  or  Spain,  or  Germany,  or  they. 
Cp.    Ben    Jonson,    "To    Shakespeare"     (11.    38-42): 

Leave    thee    alone    for    the    comparison 
Of   all,    that   insolent   Greece,   or   haughty   Rome 
Sent  forth,  or  since  did  from  their  ashes  come. 
Triumph,  my  Britain,  thou  hast  one  to  show, 
To  whom  all  scenes  of  Europe  homage  owe. 


48  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

are  accompanied  by  complaints  that  after  all  the  art  in  England  is 
disgraced  before  the  world  by  those  who  do  not  deserve  the  name  of 
poets.  Impelled  by  love  of  country  and  love  of  art,  the  critics  insist 
that  the  poet-apes  who  disgrace  and  humiliate  the  nation  must  be 
silenced  and  more  worthy  representatives  put  forward."*^  To  this  end 
emulation  is  stimulated  and  all  honor  and  praise  are  given  to  those  whose 
work  tends  to  bring  credit  upon  the  mother  tongue  and  satisfy  national 
pride.  Thus  the  appeal  to  patriotism,  directed  not  to  the  groundlings 
but  to  the  ehte  of  literature,  was  employed  as  a  means  of  remedying 
unsatisfactory  conditions  and  enabling  England  to  lift  up  her  head 
among  the  nations  as  an  equal  in  the  noble  art  of  poetry. 

3.  Poetry  and  Learning 

The  salvation  of  poetry,  the  critics  deemed,  lay  in  the  hands  of  a 
chosen  few.  The  art  being  threatened  by  the  perversions  of  the  ig- 
norant and  base,  its  preservation  was  to  be  attained  by  restricting  it  to 
the  domains  of  learning  and  social  distinction.  The  critical  conception 
of  poetry  as  a  branch  of  learning  ^  and  essentially  erudite  separated  it 
by  an  impassible  barrier  from  all  that  smacked  of  ignorance  or  barbarism. 
Poetry  therefore  must  be  upheld  as  a  learned  art  and  its  mysteries 
hedged  in  from  the  despoiling  ravages  of  ignorance. 

The  idea  promulgated  by  Caxton  at  the  beginning  of  printing  that 
such  work  as  the  noble  product  of  Virgil's  muse  was  "not  for  every  rude 
and  uncunning  man,"  but  "only  for  a  clerk  and  a  noble  gentleman,"^' 
was  also  the  idea  held  by  the  critics  of  the  reign  of  Elizabeth.  Tottel 
expresses  it  in  the  preface  to  his  Miscellany.  He  probably  did  not  an- 
ticipate large  financial  returns  from  a  popular  audience,  but  at  any  rate 

*^  A  generation  later  the  complaint  is  still  made  by  Milton  that  hitherto  "England 
hath  had  her  noble  achievements  made  small  by  the  unskillful  handhng  of  monks  and 
mechanics,"  and  so  in  a  spirit  that  would  have  delighted  the  earlier  critics  he  applied 
himself  "to  fix  all  the  industry  and  art  I  could  unite  to  the  adorning  of  my  native 

tongue to  be  an  interpreter  and  relater  of  the  best  and  sagest  things  among 

mine  own  citizens  throughout  this  island  in  the  mother-dialect "  {Reason  of  Church  Govt., 
Bk.  II,  Introd.).  Ben  Jonson  in  his  dedication  of  Volpone  to  the  "two  famous  uni- 
versities" manifests  a  similar  spirit. 

"''  Bacon's  "view  is  that  poetry  is  just  a  part  of  learning  licensed  in  imagination," 
the  \aew  which  "all  Elizabethan  critics  adopted"  (Saintsbury,  Hist.  Crit.,  ii,  194). 
His  well-known  divisions  of  learning  (in  The  advancement  of  Learning)  are  history, 
poetry,  and  philosophy,  and  he  refers  to  poetry  as  "a  part  of  learning",  "one  of  the 
principal   portions   of   learning. " 

'1  Prol.  Aeneid   {Fifteenth  Century  Prose  and   Verse,  A.  W.   Pollard,  pp.  240-241). 


THE   STATE   OF   POETRY;   CAUSES;   REMEDIES  49 

he  does  not  hesitate  to  reprehend  the  "swineHke  grossness"  of  such,  and 
commending  the  "statehness  of  style"  of  his  authors,  "removed  from 
the  rude  skill  of  common  ears,"  he  asks  the  "help  of  the  learned  to 
defend  their  learned  friends." 

Ascham  as  a  devotee  to  classical  culture  is  still  more  exacting.  De- 
lighted with  the  scholarly  fastidiousness  of  his  friend  Watson,  whose 
"care  of  perfection"  in  poetic  practice  he  holds  up  as  an  "example  to 
posterity"  of  diligence  in  learning,  he  regrets  that  Chaucer,  Wyatt,  and 
Surrey,  not  having  followed  the  best  classical  examples,  cannot  be 
ranked  higher  "amongst  men  of  learning  and  skill,"  and  further  con- 
cludes that  the  unhappy  English  predilection  for  the  barbarism  of  rime 
is  due  chiefly  to  "lack  of  knowledge  what  is  best. "^"  He  deplores  con- 
ditions in  which  men  would  rather  please  the  "humor  of  a  rude  multi- 
tude" than  "satisfy  the  judgment  of  one  learned";  and  reprobating  the 
presumption  of  writers  who  "daily  in  setting  out  books  and  ballets  make 
great  show  of  blossoms  and  buds,  in  whom  is  neither  root  of  learning  nor 
fruit  of  wisdom  at  all, "  he  looks  forward  to  the  time  when  a  proper  sense 
of  their  lack  of  learning  =will  deter  such  "rash  ignorant  heads"  from 
stuffing  the  bookstalls  with  their  rude  rimes. ^^  In  accord  with  Ascham's 
scholarly  ideals  of  poetry  are  some  of  the  professions  of  Gascoigne,  who 
announces  himself  in  the  Epistle  to  his  Posies  (1575)  as  a  poet  who  es- 
teems "more  the  praise  of  one  learned  reader"  than  he  regards  "the 
curious  carping  of  ten  thousand  unlettered  tattlers."^'*  And  in  accord- 
ance with  this  his  A  Hundreth  Sundry  Flowers  is  advertised  in  the  title  as 
"both  pleasant  and  profitable    to    the  well-smelling  noses  of  learned 

*-  Schoolmaster,  Smith,  i,  24,  30,  32. 

"  lb.,  31.  "Verily  there  may  no  man  be  an  excellent  poet  nor  orator,"  writes 
Elyot  {Governor,  Bk.  I,  chap,  xxiii,  p.  131),  "unless  he  have  part  of  all  other  doctrine, 
specially  of  noble  philosophy.  And  to  say  the  truth,  no  man  can  apprehend  the 
very  delectation  that  is  in  the  lesson  of  noble  poets  unless  he  have  read  much  and  in 
divers  authors  of  divers  learnings."  Dr.  Johnson  in  the  famous  "dissertation  upon 
poetry"  in  Rasselas  (chap,  x)  finds  poetry  the  "highest  learning", — and  for  the  poet 
"no  kind  of  knowledge to  be  overlooked." 

^  Complete  Poems,  ed.  W.  C.  Hazhtt,  p.  5.  Cp.  Shakespeare,  who  makes  Hamlet 
in  the  play  scene  ex-press  the  dictum  that  the  censure  of  one  judicious  overweighs 
that  of  a  whole  theater  of  others.  Hamelius  {Was  dachte  Shakespeare  iiber  Poesie,  p.  12) 
remarks:  "Im  grossen  Ganzen  freilich  mussen  wir  annehmen,  dass  er  die  Poesie  als 
eine  Frucht  der  Bildung  und  als  das  Eigentum  der  Gebildeten,  nicht  als  eine  schUchte 
Bliite   des   Volkslebens,    ansah." 


50  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

readers";  and  in  his  Instructions  poets  are  advised  to  use  some  learned  or 
covert  means  of  avoiding  the  "uncomely  customs  of  common  writers. "^^ 

Gabriel  Harvey,  as  a  sustainer  of  the  aristocracy  of  learning  and  an 
arch-enemy  of  ignorance,  complains  with  asperity  that  "we  that  were 
simply  trained  after  the  Athenian  and  Roman  guise  must  be  content  to 
make  room  for  roisters  that  know  their  place  and  will  -net  take  it.  "^® 
"God  help  us,"  he  exclaims  in  another  place,  "when  ignorance  and  want 
of  experience,  usurping  the  chair  of  scrupulous  and  rigorous  judgment, 

will presume  farther,  by  infinite  degrees,  than  the  learnedest  men 

in  a  civil  commonwealth,  or  the  sagest  counsellors  in  a  prince's  court  !"^^ 
His  predilection  for  a  display  of  learning  by  which  poetry  might  be 
elevated  above  the  scope  of  an  unlearned  writer  is  shown  in  his  comment 
on  Spenser's  Dreams,  which  he  likes  "passingly  well"  because  they  savor 
of  the  work  of  the  "fine  conceited  Grecians"  in  containing  "nothing 
vulgar"  and  in  being  "a  degree  or  two  at  the  least  above  the  reach  and 
compass  of  a  common  scholar's  capacity.  "^^ 

Spenser  and  Sidney,  though  they  are  largely  free  from  the  narrow 
pedantry  frequently  shown  in  Harvey,  both  manifest  the  tendency  of 
the  times  to  associate  poetry  with  learning.  Spenser,  who  himself 
commends  Sackville's  "learned  muse,"^^  and  whose  Shepherd's  Calendar 
is  praised  by  Whetstone  as  "a  work  of  deep  learning,"^"  by  his  learned 
allegorical  devices  and  his  wealth  of  classical  allusion,  so  impressed  his 
contemporaries  with  his  erudition  "that  some  of  them  accounted  him 
more  a  classical  scholar  than  a  poet,"^^  Lodge,  for  instance,  admiring 
him  as  being  the  "best  read  in  ancient  poetry."  He  himself  regards 
poetry  as  the  labor  of  the  learned,  complaining  in  his  Tears  of  the  Muses: 

55  Smith,  i,     48. 

^Pierce's  Supererogation,  Smith  ii,  251. 

"  Four  Letters,  Smith,  ii,  238. 

^'Letter  to  Spenser,  Smith,  i,   114-115. 

''  Sonnet    (1590) — cf.   Cambridge  History,   ii,   225. 

'"  Moulton  Library  of  Criticism,  i,  375. 

*^  J.  B.  Fletcher,  "Areopagus  and  Pleiade, "  p.  443.  Possibly  Spenser  was  not 
unconscious  of  a  "display  of  erudition  which  he  knew  would  be  acceptable  to  the 
Queen,"  as  Courthope  says  of  Lyly  {Hist.  Eng.  Poetry,  ii,  198).  Lyly  writes  flatter- 
ingly of  "EUzabeth 's  "godly  zeal  to  learning  with  her  great  skill"  {Euphues  and  His 
England,  Arber,  p.  459).  One  of  the  qualifications  of  James  VI 's  "perfect  poet"  is 
" skillfulness,  where  learning  may  be  spyit"  (Smith,  i,  211). 


THE   STATE   OF  POETRY;   CAUSES;   REMEDIES  51 

Each  idle  wit  at  will  presumes  to  make, 

And  doth  the  learned's  task  upon  him  take 

Whilst  Ignorance  the  Muses  doth  oppress 

The  learned's  meed  is  now  lent  to  the  fool. 

As  a  sympathizer  with  the  Areopagus  enterprise,  he  participated  in  the 
ideal  "that  poetry  must  go  hand  in  hand  with  learning,  that  the  arch- 
enemy of  the  muses  was  ignorance,  that  poetry  in  their  day  languished 
because  the  great  were  given  over  to  luxury  and  the  vulgar  would  listen 
only  to  a  horde  of  unlearned  and  base  rimesters.  "®^  Sidney  also  shares 
in  this  attitude.  He  repeatedly  associates  poetry  with  learning,  de- 
claring, for  instance,  that  Gower  and  Chaucer  were  the  first  in  English 
to  make  poetry  "aspire  to  be  a  treasure-house  of  science. "^^  He  de- 
plores the  fact  that  poetry  has  fallen  "from  almost  the  highest  estimation 
of  learning,"  apologizes  for  his  "barbarism"  in  being  moved  by  the  rude 
old  ballad  of  Percy  and  Douglas,  stipulates  that  his  ideal  poet  (though 
romantic)  proceed  with  "learned  discretion,"  and,  associating  learning 
and  allegory,  conjures  his  readers  to  believe  "that  there  are  many 
mysteries  contained  in  poetry,  which  of  purpose  were  written  darkly, 
lest  by  profane  wits  it  should  be  abused.  "^^ 

The  motive  of  confounding  the  rabble  of  rimesters  by  means  of 
learning  is  evinced  clearly  by  Stanyhurst,  who — though  himself  accused 
by  Nash  of  recalling  all  of  the  "hissed  barbarism"  buried  for  a  hundred 
years — dedicating  the  prefaces  to  his  translation  of  the  Aeneid  to  the 
nobility  and  the  "learned  reader,"  exclaims  against  the  ignorant  fry  of 
"wooden  rythmours"  that  "like  blind  bayards  rush  on  forward,  fostering 
their  vain  conceits  with  such  overweening  silly  follies,  as  they  reck 
not  to  be  condemned  of  the  learned  for  ignorant,  so  they  be 
commended  of  the  ignorant  for  learned."  And  he  thinks  the 
readiest  way  "  to  flap  these  drones  from  the  sweet  scenting  hives  of  poetry 

is  for  the  learned  to  apply  themselves  wholly to  the  true  making 

of  verses  in  such  wise  as  the  Greeks  and  Latins,  the  fathers  of  knowledge 

"  R.  E.  N.  Dodge,  Cambridge  ed.  Spenser,  p.  70. 

^  Apology,  Smith,  i,  152.  It  may  be  noted  that  the  assumption  of  intellectual 
and  spiritual  culture  on  the  part  of  the  reader  in  the  poetry  of  Elizabethan  "  romanti- 
cists" like  Sidney  and  Spenser  differentiates  it  somewhat  from  the  poetry  of  eighteenth 
century  "classicists"  like  Pope  and  Johnson — though  not,  perhaps,  from  that  of  Collins 
and  Gray,  again  (early)  romanticists.  That  is  to  say,  romanticism  has  at  times 
presumed  a  more  "learned"  audience  than  classicism. 

"76.,    151,    159,    206. 


52  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

have  done,  and  to  leave  to  these  doltish  coystrels  their  rude  rythming 
and    balductum    ballads.  "^^ 

The  identity  of  poetry  and  learning  is  especially  emphasized  by 
Webbe,  as  would  be  expected  from  his  pedagogical  prepossession;  and  in 
considering  the  work  of  the  English  poets  his  attribution  of  poetic  ex- 
cellence is  determined  largely  by  the  amount  of  learning  displayed.  He 
looks  to  poetry  for  "deep  knowledge,"  and  thinks  a  good  poet  is  to  be 
commended  as  a  "painful  furtherer  of  learning."  Gascoigne,  he  finds, 
falls  somewhat  short,  because  he  is  wanting  in  "some  parts  of  learning. " 
^Spenser,  however,  is  to  be  praised  for  his  "most  exquisite  learning  as 
shewed  abundantly"  in  the  Shepherd's  Calendar  wherein  "much  matter 
uttered  somewhat  covertly"  affords  great  "delight  at  his  learned  con- 
veyance. "  Spenser  and  Harvey,  he  decides,  are  two  of  the  "  learnedest 
masters  of  poetry  in  England.  "^^  He  finds  rime  objectionable  on  the 
ground  that  it  is  a  "barbarous  custom,  being  within  compass  of  every 
base  wit. "  One  of  his  main  purposes  is  to  stir  up  the  "learned  laureate 
masters"  that  they  may  "challenge"  poetry  "from  the  rude  multitude 
of  rustical  rimers "^^  who  mangle  and  deface  their  "noble  studies." 

Nash,  who  deems  "him  far  unworthy  of  the  name  of  scholar 

that  is  not  a  poet,"^^  likewise  pleads  vehemently  for  the  "suppression  of 
the  ravenous  rabble"  who  discredit  learning,  and,  in  accord  with  Ben 
Jonson's  later  saying,  "art  hath  an  enemy  called  ignorance,"®^  asserts 
that  "there  is  no  such  discredit  of  art  as  an  ignorant  artificer."™  He 
complains  that  it  is  a  common  practice  in  his  day  "amongst  a  sort  of 

«5  Smith,  i,   141. 

««  Discourse,  Smith,  i,  242,  245,  264. 
"lb.,  227,  278. 
*'  Pref.  Menaphon,  Smith,  i,  317. 

^^  England's  Parnassus  (1600),  Hdiconia,  iil      Cf.  also  Ben  Jonson 's  lines  on  Shakes- 
peare : 

In  hi?   well   tuned,   and  true   filed  hnes; 

In  each  of  which  he  seems  to  shake  a  lance. 

As  brandished  at  the  eyes  of  ignorance. 

The  feeling  gaining  ground  at  the  end  of  the  century  that  ignorance  is  being  overcome 
is  further  expressed  by  R.  Allot,  editor  of  England's  Parnassus,  in  his  prefatory 
verses: 

I  pickt  these  flowers  of  learning  from  their  stem, 
Whose   heavenly    wits   and   golden   pens   have   chased 
Dull  Ignorance    that    long    affronted    them. 

''"Anatomy  of  Absurdity,  Smith,  i,  334. 


THE   STATE   OF   POETRY;   CAUSES;   REMEDIES  53 

shifting  companions,"  who  try  all  trades  and  thrive  by  none  and  who 
"could  scarcely  Latinize  their  neck-verse,"  "to  leave  the  trade  of 
noverint,  whereto  they  were  born,  and  busy  themselves  with  the  en- 
deavors of  art,  "''^  One  of  the  main  motives  of  such  men  in  invading  the 
field  of  poetry,  however,  is,  by  virtue  of  the  prevailing  idea  that  poetry 
shows  learning,  "to  have  the  praise  of  learning  which  they  lack."  The 
pity  is  that  these  presumptuous  "buzzards,"  by  their  ignorant  insolence, 
"make  the  learned  sort  to  be  silent."''^ 

Puttenham  and  Harington,  writing  from  the  standpoint  of  courtiers, 
both  assume  throughout  the  prevalent  view  that  poetry  signifies  learn- 
ing. Comparing  Chaucer  with  other  fourteenth  century  poets,  Putten- 
ham, for  instance,  finds  him  to  be  "the  most  renowned  of  them  all,  for 
the  much  learning  appeareth  to  be  in  him,  above  any  of  the  rest.  "'^^ 
Harington,   appropriating  the  aristocratic  obscurity  of  allegory  as  a 

protection  for  poetry,  deems  "poetical   writing an  excellent  way 

to  preserve  all  kind  of  learning  from  that  corruption  which  now  it  is  come 
to  since  they  left  that  mystical  writing  of  verse,"  and  thinks  that  the 
"veil  of  fables  and  verse"  serves  well  to  keep  learning  from  being  "rashly 
abused  by  profane  wits.  "^^  It  was  such  an  attitude  as  this  that  prompted 
Hall  in  publishing  his  satires  to  anticipate  as  one  of  the  "obvious  cavils" 
that  would  be  brought  against  them,  that  of  "too  much  stooping  to  the 
low  reach  of  the  vulgar.  "^^ 

The  idea  of  the  aristocracy  of  poetry  as  a  branch  of  learning,  common 
among  the  translators,  is  frankly  avowed  by  Chapman.  He  addresses 
the  first  preface  to  his  Homer  "To  the  Reader,"  but,  as  he  is  careful  to 
specify,  to  "no  mere  reader."  In  his  later  installment  he  is  still  more 
select,  addressing  his  remarks  "To  the  Understander "  and  scorning 
"common  dispositions"  and  "idle  capacities"  incapable  of  appreciating 
"an  elaborate  poem. "^^  In  defending  his  diction  he  shows  further 
contempt  for  the  unlearned,  maintaining  that  "an  elegancy  authentically 

derived of  the  upper  house"  may  "be  entertained  as  well  in  their 

lower  consultation  with  authority  of  art  as  their  own  forgeries  lickt  up  by 

"Pref.  Menaphon,  Smith,   ',  311-312. 
''^Anatomy,  Smith,  i,  323,  327. 
''  Art  of  English  Poesy,  Smith,  ii,  64. 
'■•  Pref.  Orlando  Furioso,  Smith,  ii,  203. 

''^Satires  (1597),  Postscript  to  Reader,  Complete  Poems,  Grosart,  pp.  103-5. 
'«  Smith,  ii,  295,  304.     He  desires  to  be,  as  Thomas  Gray  said  of  his  Progress  of 
Poesy  and  The  Bard,  "vocal  to  the  intelligent  alone"  (Letter  to  Brown,  Feb.  17,  1763). 


54  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

nature,"  which  latter,  he  thinks,  tend  to  "bring  the  plague  of  barbarism 
amongst  us.""     The  same  attitude  is  expressed  in  his  declaration  tha 

"Worthiest  poets 
Shun  common  and  plebeian  forms  of  speech.  "^^ 

Campion,  voicing  the  prevailing  abhorrence  of  the  critics  for  the 
rudeness  of  the  earlier  poetry,  like  Ascham  and  Webbe  objects  to  rime 
on  account  of  its  barbarousness  and  its  origin  in  "lack  learning  times" 
and  declares  that  this  "vulgar  and  unartificial  custom"  has  "deterred 
many  excellent  wits  from  the  exercise  of  English  poesy."  One  of  the 
chief  objections  to  the  use  of  rime,  he  believes  with  other  critics,  is  that 
it  makes  the  mystery  of  verse  craft  too  easily  accessible  to  the  unlearned 
rabble,  its  "facility  and  popularity"  creating  "as  many  poets  as  hot 
summer  flies.  "^^ 

With  Daniel  the  view  changes  as  to  the  lowness  of  rime,  though  the 
association  of  poetry  with  learning  is  still  maintained.  Addressing  the 
"learned  professors  of  rime"  in  the  prefatory  note  to  his  Defense,  he 
proceeds  to  argue  that  the  so-called  barbaric  rime  may  be  made  as 
excellent  and  learned  as  the  supposedly  erudite  classical  metres,  and  that 
the  latter  would  also  be  open  to  perversions  of  ignorance  more  dreadful 
than  would  be  possible  in  case  of  rime.^''  Thus  in  his  defense  of  rime  he 
intends  no  compromise  with  poetic  barbarism.  Moreover,  he  writes  in 
poetic  form  a  "Defense  of  Learning,"  in  which  he  expresses  the  opinion 
that  it  is  the  overthrowing  of 

that  holy  reverent  bound 
That  parted  learning  and  the  laity^^ 

that  has  lowered  the  estimate  of  literary  genius.     In  the  dedication  of 

his  Delia  he  exhorts  Lady  Pembroke  as  "patroness  of  the  Muses 

to  preserve  them  from  those  hideous  beasts.  Oblivion  and  Barbarism"; 
and  in  dedicating  his  Cleopatra  to  the  same  patroness  he  writes : 

Now  where  so  many  pens  (like  spears)  are  charg'd, 
To  chase  away  this  tyrant  of  the  North; 

"  lb.,    305-6. 

'» Plays,  ed.  R.  H.  Shepherd,  p.  185. 

''  Observations,  Smith,  ii,  327,  330. 

8»  Smith,    ii,    379. 

*'  Musophilus,  1.  689.  In  his  Epistle  Dedicatory  to  Licia,  Giles  Fletcher  complains: 
"Yet  now  it  is  grown  to  this  pass,  that  learning  is  Hghtly  respected;  upon  a  persuasion 
that  it  is  to  be  found  everywhere:  a  thing  untrue  and  unpossible." 


THE  STATE  OF  POETRY;  CAUSES;  REMEDIES  55 

Gross  Barbarism,  whose  power  grown  far  inlarg'd 
Was  lately  by  thy  valiant  brother's  worth 
First  found,  encountered,  and  provoked  forth: 
Whose  onset  made  the  rest  audacious. 
Whereby  they  likewise  have  so  well  discharg'd 
Upon  that  hideous  beast  incroaching  thus. 

The  insistent  association  of  poetry  and  learning  by  the  critics  of  this 
period,  as  well  as  the  favor  shown  such  learned  devices  as  the  mystery  of 
allegory  and  the  mystery  of  classical  verse  craft,  was  evidently  prompted 
by  the  earnest  desire  of  advancing  the  interests  of  English  poetry.  By 
such  association  it  was  hoped  to  gain  for  the  art  something  of  the  prestige 
generally  accorded  to  learning,  and  to  restore  to  it  something  of  the 
distinction  and  reverence  in  which  it  was  anciently  held. 
Moreover,  there  was  the  great  hope  that  by  investing 
poetry  with  the  halo  and  mystery  of  learning  the  art  might  be  saved  from 
the  destructive  and  discreditable  forces  of  ignorance  and  barbarism. 
Lacking  the  organized  force  of  a  Pleiade  or  Academy,  the  critics,  singly 
or  in  little  groups,  labored  so  to  hedge  poetry  within  the  protection  of 
learning  as  to  exclude  the  multitude  of  ignorant  artificers,,  and  so  to 
limit  its  practice  to  the  learned  elect  as  to  elevate  and  sanctify  the  art 
as  the  height  of  all  knowledge,  the  flower  of  all  learning. 

4.  Poetry  and  Aristocracy 

Caxton's  declaration  in  the  prologue  to  his  Aeneid  (1490)  that  "this 
book  is  not  for  every  rude  and  uncunning  man,"  but  rather  "for  clerks 
and  very  gentlemen  that  understand  gentleness  and  science,  "^^  indicates 
the  twofold  character  of  the  resource  to  be  found  in  the  aristocracy  of 
culture  as  a  means  of  elevating  and  preserving  poetry.  The  art  was  to 
be  saved  by  "gentleness  and  science,"  by  gentlemen  and  scholars,  and  to 
this  intent  the  critics,  often  belonging  themselves  in  greater  or  less 
measure  to  one  class  or  the  other,^  made  their  appeal.  The  social  appeal 
was  more  difficult  than  the  appeal  to  learning,  though  certain  condi- 
tions favored  it.     The  passing  of  chivalry,  for  instance,  caused  men  to 

'- Prol.  Aeneid,  op.  cil.  Gavin  Douglas,  though  disgusted  with  Caxton's  ill  ren- 
dering of  Virgil,  similarly  declares  the  aristocracy  of  his  author,  "whose  poem  is  to  be 
read  for  the  heroic  examples  it  offers  to  princes  and  governors,  and  which  is  not  to  be 
studied  by  unlearned  and  ignorant  men"  (Courthope,  Hist.  Eng.  Poetry,  ii,  132). 

*^  At  opposite  poles,  for  instance,  stand  men  like  Jonson  and  Puttenham,  the  one  \ 
all  for  learning,  the  other  for  birth;  but  each  in  his  way  upholds  the  aristocracy  of  \ 
poetry. 


56  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

grasp  at  new  means  of  attaining  courtly  distinction,  and  poetry  seemed 
to  afford  such  a  means.  Moreover,  exhortations  were  not  wanting  in 
behalf  of  poetry  as  a  courtierly  accomplishment.  There  was  the  author- 
ity of  Castiglione  that  one  of  the  distinctions  of  a  courtier  should  be 
"knowledge  of  letters,"  that  he  ought  to  be  able  to  write  in  poHshed 
language  "both  rime  and  prose," — for  "he  that  savoreth  not  the  sweet- 
ness of  letters  cannot  know  how  much  is  the  greatness  of  glory.  "^* 
Gentlemen  were  urged  by  George  Pettie,  in  the  preface  to  his  translation 
of  Guazzo's  Conversations  (1586),  "never  to  be  ashamed  to  show  your 

learning it  is  only  it  which  maketh  you   gentlemen,  and 

the  only  way  to  win  immortality  is  either  to  do  things  worth  the  writing, 
or  write  things  worth  the  reading."  In  his  Honor  Military  and  Civil, 
William  Segar  promulgated  similar  doctrine,  declaring  that  a  man 
"hardly  deserveth  any  title  of  honor"  who  does  not  take  pleasure  either 
in  arms  or  letters  and  that  "very  rarely  doth  any  man  excel  in  arms  that 
is  utterly  ignorant  of  good  letters."*^ 

The  elegant  courtier,  however,  was  very  shy  about  entering  the 
field  of  poetry,  at  least  in  print,  and  thereby  associating  himself  with  the 
"ravenous  rabble"  of  versifiers  also  aspiring  for  honor,  or  lucre.  It  took 
more  to  win  him  over  than  such  reassuring  arguments  as  that  of  Nicho- 
las Ling,  who  declares  that  "if  any  man  whatsoever  in  prizing  of  his 
own  birth  or  fortune,  shall  take  in  scorn  that  a  far  meaner  man  in  the 

eye  of  the  world  shall  be  placed  by  him,  I  tell  him  plainly that 

that  man's  wit  is  set  by  his,  not  that  man  by  him."^*^  The  courtier 
usually  refused  to  publish  the  treasures  of  his  wit,  limiting  their  circula- 
tion rather  to  his  own  social  circle  and  guarding  them  from  the  inspection 
of  the  vulgar  public.  Translations  of  foreign  masterpieces,  as  being 
above  the  reach  of  common  wits  and  the  emulation  of  low  rimesters, 
might  be  published  with  the  assumption  that  they  were  intended  for  the 
perusal  of  scholars  and  gentlemen.  In  general,  it  was  deemed  necessary 
to  differentiate  the  product  of  the  courtly  muse  from  that  of  the  rabble  by 
such  features  of  content  or  style  as  would  insure  distinct  recognition,  for 
only  in  this  way  could  the  courtier  or  aspirant  for  court  favor  participate 
in  poetry  without  compromising  his  social  standing  by  placing  himself 
beside  "a  far  meaner  man  in  the  eye  of  the  world." 

*^  Einstein,  Italian  Renaissance  in  England,  pp.  91,  92. 

8=76.,  93,   109,    110. 

**  Jusserand 's  Literary  History,  ii,  382. 


THE   STATE   OF  POETRY;   CAUSES;   REMEDIES  57 

The  courtier  adherents  of  the  Areopagus,  whose  "gospel  of  new 
poetry  was  Hmited  to  gentlemen  and  scholars,"  "the  very  last  thing  in 
their  intention"  being  "to  write  as  common  people  do,"**^  were  without 
doubt  actuated  largely  by  some  such  motive  as  that  of  Lyly  in  his 
Euphues,  namely,  to  differentiate  the  style  of  court  literature  from  that 
of  the  rude  multitude.  Their  principal  object,  according  to  Spenser, 
who  acknowledged  himself  drawn  "to  their  faction,"  was  "a  general 
surceasing  of  bald  rimers."^  Spenser,  to  be  sure,  soon  gave  up  the 
quantitative  verse  scheme;  but  in  entering  the  field  of  poetry  against  the 
despised  rimesters  in  rime,  he  took  great  pains  to  adopt  other  means  to 
vanquish  and  discredit  the  "rakehelly  rout"  and  differentiate  his  work 
from  theirs. 

Indeed,  the  difficulties  involved  in  the  social  aspects  of  poetry  were 
apparently  more  keenly  felt  by  Spenser  than  by  any  other  poet.  Sidney, 
being  in  a  more  independent  position,  evaded  the  issue  by  refusing  to 
publish  any  of  his  works  during  his  lifetime.  But  with  Spenser,  an  - 
ambitious  poetic  genius  in  poverty,  almost  life  itself  depended  on  such 
distinction  in  print  as  would  gain  him  substantial  recognition  over  the 
common  versifier;  and  bitterly  does  he  inveigh  against  the  lack  of  such 
recognition,  and  against  the  "Tom  Pipers,"  "the  base-born  brood  of 
blindness"  that  "rime  at  riot,"  and  the  "boldness  of  such  base-born 
men,"  who  "dare  their  follies  forth  so  rashly  throw. "^^  Noble  poetry, 
he  complains,  formerly  the  "nursling  of  nobility,"  "the  care  of  kaisers 
and  of  kings,"  whose  place  "is  prince's  palace  the  most  fit,"^°  has  fallen 

from  its  "sovereign  dignity"  and  is  suffered  to   be  "profaned of 

the  base  vulgar, "  its  status  being  in  sorry  contrast  to  that  of  past  ages 
when  none  but  "princes  and  high  priests"  might  profess  "that  secret 
skill.  "^^  Further  manifestations  of  Spenser's  aristocratic  temper  and 
purpose  are  not  wanting.  More  than  once,  for  instance,  feeling  the  need 
"of  establishing  his  gentility,"  he  evinces  pride  in  having  descended 
from  a  noble  house.^^    He  shows  a  courtierly  attitude  in  his  slowness  to 

''J.  B.  Fletcher,  "Areopagus  and  Fleiade,"  pp.  437,  452.  "Excellency  hath  in 
all  ages  affected  singularity",  observes  Harvey  (Smith,  ii,  283). 

'*  Letter  to  Harvey,  Smith,  i,  89. 

8'  Tears    of   the    Muses,    U.    220,    392.  ^ 

'"  Shepherd 's  Calendar,  October  eclogue. 

"   Tears  of  the  Muses,  11.  560,  567. 

''^  E.  g.  in  Colin  Clout's  Come  Home  Again  and  in  Prothalamion.  Breton,  Nash 
and  others  take  pains  to  write  themselves  down  as  gentlemen.  Drayton  uses  his  title 
"Esquire".  "Every  poet  writes  squire  now",  says  Jonson  (Induction,  Magnetic 
Lady). 


58  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

publish  and  in  his  fear  as  a  gentleman  to  be  thought  to  write  "for  gain 
and  commodity, "''  expressing  contempt  for  those  who  do.  Moreover, 
in  his  Faery  Queen,  in  which,  desiring  "  to  be  counted  respectable  and  to 
separate  himself  from  the  crowd  of  foolish  or  licentious  rimers,"^''  he 
openly  avows  an  "aristocratic  intention "^^  in  his  declaration  that  "the 
general  end  and  aim  of  all  the  book  is  to  fashion  a  gentleman  or  noble 
person  in  virtuous  and  gentle  discipline,"  a  purpose  not  dissimilar  to  the 
courtly  aims  of  Lyly's  Eupkues.^^  Confirmation  of  such  an  intention  is 
further  manifested  in  his  combination  of  the  aristocratic  devices  of 
allegory  and  chivalric  romance,  and  in  his  dedication  of  the  poem  to  the 
Queen  and  his  recommendations  of  it  in  seventeen  sonnets  to  all  the 
Court,  one  of  these  sonnets  containing  the  assertion  that  the  "fairer 
parts"  of  his  poem  "are  hid  from  common  view." 

Sidney,  who  by  refraining  from  print  avoided  the  humiliation  of 
being  associated  with  the  rabble  of  base  rimesters,  presents  the  aristocracy 
of  poetry  in  a  more  general  and  abstract  aspect,  though  in  viewing  the 
state  of  poetry  in  England  in  the  concrete  he  is  as  strongly  averse  as  Spenser 
to  the  profaning  of  the  art  by  the  participation  in  it  of  "base  wits. "  He 
also  characteristically  gives  expression  to  the  doctrine  that  nobility  is 
indicated  by  excellence  in  art,  finding  "in  the  Earl  of  Surrey's  lyrics 
many  things  tasting  of  a  noble  birth,  and  worthy  of  a  noble  mind. "  The 
low  rimesters  or  poet-apes,  possessing  neither  nobility  of  birth  nor  of 
mind,  Sidney  could  not  tolerate  in  poetry.  His  general  attitude  is 
evinced  further  by  his  own  courtly  sonnet  sequence,  and  his  chivalric 
romance;  and  by  his  participation  in  the  ideals  of  the  Areopagus,  fol- 
lowed by  his  noble  Apology  in  which  his  conception  of  the  poet  is  in  the 
highest  sense  of  the  term  aristocratic. 

The  conception  of  poetry  as  a  prerogative  of  aristocracy  is  notably 
represented  in  the  work  of  Puttenham,  who,  constituting  himself  a  sort 
of  court  critic  and  undertaking  his  "travail"  for  the  instruction  of 
courtiers,  aims   to  accomplish  for  the  courtier's  poetic  culture  what 

°'  Letter   to   Harvey,    Smith,   i,   88. 

»*   Church,  R.  W.,  Life  of  Spenser,  p.  85. 

'^  Jusserand,  Literary  History,  ii,  476. 

'^  Lyly,  addressing  "Gentlemen  Readers,"  scorns  all  others:  "I  know  gentlemen 

will  find  no  fault  without  cause as  for  others  I  care  not  for  their  jests,  for  I  never 

meant  to  make  them  my  judges."  Cp.  Chapman,  who  also  disclaims  all  ambition  to 
please  the  vulgar:  "The  profane  multitude  I  hate,  and  only  consecrate  my  strange 
poems  to  those  searching  spirits,  whom  learning  hath  made  noble  and  nobility  sacred" 
{Cambridge   History,   vi,   35.) 


THE   STATE   OF   POETRY;   CAUSES;  REMEDIES  59 

Castiglione  aimed  to  do  for  his  all  around  culture.  Purposing  "to 
satisfy  not  the  school  but  the  court,  "^^  he  makes  bold  to  differentiate 
himself  from  the  former  for  whose  scholasticism  he  shows  some  contempt. 
Like  all  the  critics  he  is  eager  to  make  all  possible  connections  between 
royalty  and  nobility  and  poetry,  and  he  makes  the  most  of  Elizabeth's 
dabbling  in  the  art. 

As  befits  a  courtier  critic,  Puttenham's  fundamental  literary  doc- 
trine is  that  of  decorum,  the  application  of  which  he,  like  some  of  the 
other  critics,  transfers  as  a  matter  of  course  from  the  sphere  of  social 
distinctions  to  distinctions  in  the  province  of  art;  for  instance,  he  divides 
the  subject-matter  of  poetry  into  "high,"  "mean,"  and  "base  and 
low," — and  the  affairs  and  lives  of  those  dealt  with  in  the  last,  being  not 
"like  high,"  do  not  "require  to  be  set  forth  with  like  style,  but  everyone 
in  his  degree  and  decency.  "^^  Moreover,  "  the  poet  must  know  to  whose 
ear  he  maketh  his  rime,  and  accommodate  himself  thereto,  and  not  give 
such  music  to  the  rude  and  barbarous,  as  he  would  to  the  learned  and 
delicate  ear."  "Measures  pleasing  only  to  the  popular  ear,"  such  as 
those  "made  purposely  for  the  recreation  of  the  common  people,"  must 
"in  our  courtly  maker"  be  banished  utterly ;^^  in  their  courtly  ditties 
delicate  poets  must  avoid  practices  that  "smatch"  of  the  "school  of 
common  players";  and  in  general  poetic  decoration  should  depart  "from 
the  common  course  of  ordinary  speech  and  capacity  of  the  vulgar  judg- 
ment. "^°°  Not  ordinarily  admitting  mean  and  base  personages  in  their 
works,  poets  should,  as  Chapman  said,  "shun  common  and  plebeian 
forms  of  speech,  "^"^  and  not  follow  the  speech  of  craftsmen  and  carters 
or  others  "of  the  inferior  sort,"  but  rather  the  language  of  the  Court  and 
of  "men  civil  and  graciously  behaviored  and  bred. "^"^ 

In  accordance  with  the  Elizabethan  critical  and  social  tenet  of 
decorum,  the  critics — especially  Puttenham  with  his  extended  treatment 
of  different  kinds — assume  a  sort  of  aristocratic  gradation  of  poetic  kinds 

^'  Art  of  English  Poesy,  Smith,  ii,  166. 

'*  lb.,  158.  Sidney  observes  this  doctrine  in  his  Arcadia  when  he  changes  from 
classic  metre  to  rime,  in  the  latter  making  his  character,  a  shepherd,  observe  that  his 
estate  does  not  call  for  the  higher  style. 

^^  lb.,    87,    91. 

"»/6.,     132,     142. 

""  Plays,  ed.  R.  H.  Shepherd,  p.  186. 

"2  Smith,    ii,    150. 


60  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

and  forms.  They  agree,  for  instance,  that  the  despised  ballad  is  at  the 
antipodes  as  compared  with  the  grand  and  stately  epic,  other  forms 
ranging  between.  The  sonnet  holds  its  place^"'  as  a  fashionable  courtly 
form  until  it  becomes  grossly  abused  by  the  multitude  without  the  pale. 
In  general,  critics  encourage  such  superiority  and  distinction  of 
thought  and  form  as  would  preserve  poetry  as  an  aristocratic  art  secure 
from  the  dishonor  of  base  rimesters.  Courtly  makers  must  not  only 
avoid  low  and  plebeian  forms  but  must  task  their  wits  to  introduce, 
adapt,  or  invent  new  forms  and  styles,  investing  their  works  with  such 
distinction  as  to  elevate  them  above  the  reproach  of  being  common  or 
vulgar  and  make  them  acceptable  in  the  higher  circles  of  polite  society. 
Such  motives  for  distinction  are  not  wanting  in  the  rise  of  Petrarchism, 
Euphuism,  Platonism,  court  allegory,  court  romance,  Arcadianism,  and 
even  in  the  "craze  for  classical  metres." 

The  theory  of  the  aristocracy  of  poetry,  acceptable  alike  to  court  and 
school,  was  prompted,  even  with  court  critics  and  poets,  by  a  further 
and  broader  motive  than  that  of  furnishing,  in  lieu  of  the  old  practices  of 
chivalry,  a  means  of  courtly  honor  and  distinction.  Perhaps  as  never  at 
any  other  time  in  the  history  of  the  nation,  were  the  two  powerful  mo- 
tives of  aristocracy  and  patriotism  operative  in  combination  for  the 
elevation  of  letters.  The  social  motive  was  strongly  grounded  in  a 
well-intentioned  and  patriotic  endeavor  to  promote  the  best  interests 
of  poetry  as  a  national  possession.  With  the  great  spread  of  education 
and  the  consequent  democratic  tendency  of  the  people  to  share  in  the 
good  things  of  life,  poetry,  in  the  general  decay  of  feudalism,  was  falling 
a  prey  to  the  multitude,  and  thereby,  it  was  thought,  being  subjected  to 
such  barbarism,  degradation,  and  disgrace  as  to  portend  its  demoraliza- 
tion and  threaten  its  very  existence  in  any  higher  sense.  Scholars  and 
courtly  makers  therefore  rallied  in  defense  to  preserve  the  art  from  the 
besieging  forces  of  ignorance  and  baseness.  The  rabble  of  poet-apes 
must  be  suppressed  and  there  must  be  no  pandering  to  the  taste  of  the 
groundlings.  Since  it  was  found  impossible  entirely  to  bar  poetry  from 
polluting  hands,  all  possible  means  must  be  employed  so  to  elevate  the 
art  as  to  make  it  at  its  best  unmistakably  superior,  and  distinguished 
from  its  lower  aspects  of  crudeness  and  debasement;  and  this  endeavor 
for  the  conservation  and  exaltation  of  poetic  art  is  manifested  not  only 
in  the  criticism  of  the  time,  but  is  reflected  Ukewise  in  the  character  and 
spirit  of  the  poetry  itself. 

'"^  Though  apparently  it  was  always  scorned  by  such  critics  as  Jonson  and  Marston. 


THE   STATE   OF   POETRY;   CAUSES;   BEMEDIES  61 

5.  Instruction 

In  their  aspirations  for  the  betterment  of  EngHsh  poetry,  the  critics 
realized  that  one  of  the  great  needs  was  that  of  instruction.  Half 
knowledge  having  proved  demoralizing,  the  remedy  was  more  knowledge, 
and  in  the  militant,  optimistic  spirit  of  the  time  the  critics  had  courage  to 
undertake  the  task  of  furnishing  it.  The  didactic  spirit,  fostered  by  the 
new  learning  and  otherwise  regnant,  as  in  books  of  courtesy  and  often  in 
polite  letters,  was  strongly  upon  them.  Lacking  an  academy,  or  organ- 
ized unity  of  effort,  they  rose,  singly  or  in  small  groups,  eager  as  painful 
furtherers  of  learning  and  bringers  of  light  to  dispel  inadequate  and 
erroneous  ideas  and  to  teach  what  to  do  and  how  to  do,  even  the  most 
abstract  and  philosophical  of  their  works  arising  out  of  the  desire  to  meet 
problems  that  they  considered  practical  and  of  the  utmost  importance. 
Their  treatises,  however,  were  not  intended  for  all  the  people.  Before 
poetry  could  come  to  its  own,  even  men  of  learning  and  rank  must  be 
instructed,  or  at  least  persuaded  to  turn  their  studies  seriously  to  its 
mysteries;  while  the  ignorant  and  low  were  to  be  deterred  from  mangling 
and  polluting  an  art  that  was  beyond  the  scope  of  their  mental  and  spirit- 
ual capacity. 

The  motive  of  affording  instruction  in  one  way  or  another,  so  often 
professed  by  authors  and  printers  from  Caxton  down,  is,  therefore, 
because  of  the  patriotic  concern  to  meet  actual  needs,  especially  strong 
with  all  who  turn  their  energies  to  the  advancement  of  poetry.  Ascham, 
as  a  classical  scholar  and  schoolmaster  to  royalty,  manifests  a  practical, 
tutorial  attitude  throughout  his  disquisition  on  "Imitation"  and  else- 
where in  his  Schoolmaster.  Gascoigne  in  his  notes  of  "Instruction"  in 
verse-making  is,  with  a  purpose  of  definite  helpfulness,  plainly  didactic 
both  in  subject-matter  and  in  manner  of  presentation.  Lodge,  in  his 
reply  to  Gosson  taunts  the  latter  with  having  lost  his  learning  since  he 
left  the  university,  and,  scornfully  chiding  him,  "once  a  scholar,"  for 
doltish  disloyalty  to  the  teachings  of  his  old  masters  there,  and  declaring 
that  he  dispraises  poetry  knowing  "not  what  it  means, "^"^  he  proceeds  to 
enlighten  him  and  his  like  by  recalling  such  instructions  in  poetry  as  he 
has  forgotten.  James  VI,  King  of  Scots,  writing  his  Rules  and  Cautels  for 
the  "docile  bairns  of  knowledge"  who,  already  possessing  some  know- 
ledge of  poetry,  have  "an  earnest  desire  to  attain  to  farther, "^"^^  is 
avowedly  a  preceptor  in  poetry,  and  he  feels  that  as  such  he  is  meeting  a 

iM  Smith,     i,     66. 
los/J.,    208. 


62  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

need  of  his  countrymen.  Even  E.  K.,  in  view  of  the  untutored  state  of 
his  contemporaries,  manifests  in  both  his  preface  and  his  gloss  to  the 
Shepherd's  Calendar  a  sohcitously  preceptorial  spirit  in  his  explanations 
of  the  subject-matter  and  style  of  the  work  of  the  new  poet,  hoping  to  aid 
the  readers  to  "savor"  such  "celestial  food." 

Sidney's  work,  although  less  ostensibly  didactic  and  dealing  less  with 
details  of  form  and  style,  is  nevertheless  more  fundamentally  educative 
in  motive  than  that  of  any  other  critic  of  the  period.  He  goes  back  of  the 
superficial  aspects  of  poetry  involved  in  form  and  style,  feeling  that  the 
most  essential  service  he  can  render  poetry  in  England  is  to  set 
forth  a  larger  and  truer  conception  of  the  nature  and  function  of  the  art 
and  higher  ideals  as  to  its  import  and  influence.  Realizing  that  the 
reason  why  troublesome  poet-apes  were  filling  the  bookstalls  with  their 
crude  productions  and  having  them  pass  as  poetry  was  that  neither  they 
nor  the  English  reading  public  possessed  any  adequate  apprehension  of 
the  character  and  significance  of  real  poetry,  and  feeUng,  therefore,  that 
the  first  step  toward  the  betterment  of  the  art  must  be  a  better  under- 
standing of  its  high  character  and  purpose,  he  endeavors  to  dispel  the 
crude,  mechanical  notions  that  seem  to  prevail,  and  to  establish  vital 
principles  of  poetry  as  imaginative  literature  and  as  a  high  and  noble 
instrument  for  the  well-being  of  the  individual  and  the  nation.  Although 
he  leaves  largely  to    others    the  task  of  furnishing  instruction  in  the 

details  of  "art  and  imitation,"  neither  of  which  "we  use rightly," 

he  insists  upon  the  necessity  on  the  part  of  those  who  have  to  do  with 
poetry  of  seeking  "  to  know  what  they  do,  and  how  they  do.  "i"** 

Webbe,  tutor  to  the  sons  of  Edward  Suliard  and  zealous  as  a  furtherer 
of  national  learning,  becomes  in  his  Discourse  of  English  Poesy  a  teacher 
and  exhorter  in  the  cause  of  poetry,  his  desire  being  not  only  to  contribute 
his  own  knowledge  but  to  attract  to  the  study  of  the  art  the  energies  of 
more  able  wits.  His  contribution  comprises  a  survey  of  poetry  among 
the  ancients,  a  commentary  on  English  poets  down  to  his  own  day  and 
including  contemporary  poets,  a  discussion  of  the  subjects  and  kinds  of 
poetry,  and  an  exposition  by  precept  and  example  of  his  knowledge  of 
versification;  and  he  appends,  as  a  further  help  and  guide,  a  translation 
of  Fabricus's  summary  of  the  rules  of  Horace.  By  his  own  efforts  and 
those  of  others  who  may  be  impelled  to  aid  in  the  program  of  poetical 

education  in  England  he  hopes  that  "we   may get  the  means, 

which  we  yet  want,  to  discern  between  good  writers  and  bad"  and  in 

!<»  Apology,   Smith,   i,    195. 


THE   STATE   OF   POETRY;   CAUSES;   REMEDIES  63 

good    time    establish  the  "right  practice  and    orderly  course  of  true 
poetry.  "107 

Puttenham,  in  a  treatise  the  most  extensively  didactic  of  all,  spares 
no  pains  to  furnish  English  "  courtiers,  for  whose  instruction  this  travail 
is  taken,"  with  the  "whole  receit  of  poetry,"  compiling  for  their  benefit 
a  marvelous  store  of  information  pertaining  to  the  art  that  he  is  zealous 
to  teach  them,  so  that  "  though  they  be  to  seek  of  the  Greek  and  Latin 
languages"  they  shall  not  "lament  for  lack  of  knowledge  sufficient  to  the 
purpose  of  this  art.  "^"^  In  the  three  books  making  up  his  Art  of  English 
Poesy,  namely,  "Of  Poets  and  Poesy,"  "Of  Proportion  Poetical,"  and 
"Of  Ornament,"  he  attempts  to  supply  information  on  all  possible 
aspects  of  the  subject,  devoting  himself  in  the  main,  however,  to  practical 
matters  of  forms  and  kinds,  methods,  prosody,  and  figures  of  speech. 
^  VThe  prominence  of  the  didactic  motive  in  Elizabethan  criticism  of 
poetry  is  further  evinced  in  the  controversy  between  Campion  and 
Daniel.  Campion,  in  his  endeavor  to  "induce  a  true  form  of  versify- 
ing" with  the  aim  of  displacing  the  "vulgar  and  unartificial  custom  of 
riming,"  which  he  knows  has  "deterred  many  excellent  wits  from  the 
exercise  of  English  poesy,  "^"^  devotes  himself  chiefly  to  the  exposition  of 
the  forms  of  verse  that  he  wishes  to  be  adopted,  his  purpose  being  not 
only  to  persuade  poets  to  make  the  departure  but  also  to  teach  them  how 
to  proceed. 

In  his  reply  to  Campion,  Daniel,  like  Sidney,  in  a  high  and  broad 
sense  assumes  the  office  of  teacher.  Just  as  Sidney  had  promulgated 
better  conceptions  of  the  nature  and  function  of  poetry,  so  Daniel 
contributes  needful  ideas  concerning  the  question  of  form.  Men  like 
Campion  had  been  obsessed  by  the  idea  that  English  poetry  could  best 
be  saved  and  elevated  by  the  adoption  of  some  peculiarly  elegant  or 
difficult  manner  of  writing  that  would  place  it  out  of  the  reach  of  ignorant 
and  base  practitioners.  Daniel  demonstrates  clearly,  for  the  first  time 
in  Elizabethan  criticism,  that  any  particular  form  is  not  inherently  high 
or  low,  aristocratic  or  plebeian,  but  excellent  or  wretched  largely  accord- 
ing to  the  excellence  or  wretchedness  of  execution.  Classical  metres,  he 
points  out,  would  be  as  subject  to  mangling  perversions  of  versifiers  as 
rime,  and  results  would  naturally  be  even  more  crude  and  barbaric.  In 
other  words,  Daniel,  like  Sidney,  taught  the  much-needed  lesson  that 

""   Smith,   i,    227. 
'"s   Smith,     ii,     163. 
"«/6.,   327. 


64  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

-the  salvation  of  English  poetry  lay  in  larger  and  more  intelligent  concep- 
tions, higher  standards,  and  severer  discipline;  and  like  Sidney,  Daniel — 

in  view  of  "  that  wrong  measure  of  confusion that  never  takes  his 

ways  by  reason,  but  by  imitation,  rolling  on  with  the  rest,  and  never 
weighs  the  course  which  he  should  go"^'" — sought  to  dispel  narrow  and 
false  ideas  about  poetry  and  to  uplift  and  advance  the  art  by  applying  in 
its  service  the  best  results  of  mental  and  spiritual  intelligence.  Daniel's 
theory  of  form,  a  contribution  based  upon  the  experience  of  his  genera- 
tion, finally  settled  a  much-mooted  question  of  Elizabethan  criticism. 


Elizabethan  criticism  of  poetry  indisputably  was  written  in  the  main 
with  reference  to  the  literary  conditions  of  the  time,  and  even  its  origin — 
a  fact  which  scholars  sometimes  seem  to  overlook — is  to  be  ascribed 
chiefly  to  contemporary  conditions,  needs,  and  problems.  The  critics, 
awakened  to  a  lively  interest  in  the  state  of  poetry  and  finding  it  un- 
satisfactory, seek  with  varying  degrees  of  clearness  of  apprehension  to 
find  causes  and  remedies  for  the  evils  attending  the  art.  They  in 
general  agree  that  the  main  source  of  evil  is  to  be  found  in  the  insistent 
participation  in  poetry  of  ignorant  and  vulgar  practitioners,  whereby 
the  art  is  degraded  and  discredited.  Subsidiary  to  this  main  evil  and 
largely  consequent  upon  it  are  further  hindrances,  namely:  the  inferior 
taste  of  a  growing  multitude  of  uncultured  readers;  the  non-participation 
in  poetry,  because  of  social  scruples,  of  men  of  talent  and  rank;  and  the 
lack  of  adequate  literary  patronage.  Earnestly  desiring  to  meet  and 
overcome  these  evils,  the  critics  endeavor,  by  appealing  to  patriotism  and 
by  seeking  to  gain  for  poetry  the  prestige  resulting  from  its  association 
with  learning  and  rank,  that  they  may  so  elevate  the  art  as  to  save  it 
from  threatened  demoralization  and  attract  to  it  the  sympathy  and 
cooperation  of  the  best  and  greatest  spirits  of  the  time,  hoping  thereby 
in  good  time  to  make  it  a  bounteous  source  of  national  honor  and  national 
benefit.  At  the  same  time,  reahzing  the  great  need  of  more  adequate 
knowledge  in  theory  and  practice,  they  bend  their  energies  to  the  task  of 
advancing  poetry  by  furnishing  its  more  capable  representatives  with  the 
best  possible  instruction  as  to  the  nature,  function,  and  form  of  the  art. 
The  result  is  a  further  body  of  critical  theory — to  be  dealt  with  in  the 
following  pages — which,  though  in  its  sudden  rise  inadequate  and  some- 
times erroneous  in  itself  as  measured  by  the  later  development  of  the  art 

"» Mtisophilus,    Works,    i.    228. 


THE   STATE   OF   POETRY;   CAUSES;   REMEDIES  65 

of  criticism,  is  nevertheless  of  distinct  interest  and  value  when  viewed  as 
a  reflection  of  the  literary  ideals  of  the  sixteenth  century,  and  as  an 
attempt  to  meet  the  conditions  and  needs  of  a  period  during  which 
English  poetry,  pursued  as  never  before  or  since,  attained  a  standard  of 
excellence  which  is  still  the  delight  and  marvel  of  the  English-speaking 
world. 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY 
I.  The  Exalted  Nature  of  Poetry — Gift  and  Inspiration 

One  of  the  cardinal  points  in  Elizabethan  theory  of  poetry,  magnified 
by  conditions  but  strongly  grounded  in  the  temper  and  convictions  of 
the  poets  and  critics  of  the  time  and  powerfully  reflected  in  creative 
literature,  is  that  of  the  exalted  nature  of  poetic  art.  The  first  critic 
strongly  to  emphasize  the  transcendent  character  of  poetry  and  the  doc- 
trine of  divine  inspiration  is  Thomas  Lodge,  who  in  this  respect  is  some- 
thing of  a  forerunner  of  Sidney  and  Spenser, — though  the  idea  of  divine 
inspiration  had  also  appealed  to  Sir  Thomas  Elyot,  who  in  his  Governor^ 
was  pleased  to  note  that  "in  poets  was  supposed  to  be  science  mystical 
and  inspired"  and  that  "Tully  in  his  Tusculane  questions  supposeth 

that  a  poet  cannot  abundantly   express  verses without  celestial 

instinction,  which  is  also  by  Plato  ratified. "  Lodge  in  his  defense  labors 
hard  to  exalt  poetry,  and  using  scriptural  and  classical  references  he 
draws  copiously  upon  the  resources  of  his  scholastic  training,  piHng  up 
instances  to  show  the  high  character  a,nd  estimation  of  poetry  among  the 
ancients;  Homer,  for  instance,  being  accounted  by  them  no  loss  than 
hmnanus  deu<;.  Though  he  reasons  "not  that  all  poets  are  holy,"  yet 
he  affirms  that  "poetry  is  a  heavenly  gift,  a  perfit  gift."  Who  does 
"not  wonder  at  poetry?  Who  thinketh  not  that  it  proceedeth  from 
above'' — "that  heavenly  fury "?^  Poefa  nascitur  he  interprets  to  mean 
that  "poetry  cometh  from  above,  from  a  heavenly  seat  of  a  glorious  God, 
unto  an  excellent  creature  man. "  Solomon,  David,  and  other  men  near 
to  God  were  poets.  Lodge  does  not  know  of  the  case  of  Caedmon,  but 
Ennius  among  the  Romans  received  the  "heavenly  fury"  while  "sleeping 
on  the  Mount  of  Parnassus,"  where  "he  dreamed  that  he  received  the 
soul  of  Homer  into  him,  after  the  which  he  became  a  poet."  Persius 
was  made  a  poet  Divino  jurore  percitus.  Hesiodus,  speaking  for  the 
Greeks,  assures  us  that  poetry  "cometh  not  by  labor,  neither  that  night 
watchings  bringeth  it,  but   that  we  must  have  it  thence  whence  he 

fetched  it from    a  well  of   the  Muses a  draught  whereof 

drew  him  to  his  perfection;  so  of  a  shepherd  he  became  an  eloquent 
poet."     The  poets  were  said  to  call  upon  the  Muses  for  help,  but  "their 

1  Ed.   Croft,  i,    122. 
"Smith,  i,  64,  70,  75. 


THE  NAUTRE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  67 

meaning  was  no  other but  to  call  for  heavenly  inspiration  from 

above  to  direct  their  endeavors."  It  is  not  good,  therefore,  "to  set 
light  by  the  name  of  a  i)oet,  since  the  offspring  from  whence  he  cometh  is 
so  heavenly."  Moreover,  "a  strange  token,"  this  divine  inspiration  is 
reflected  in  style,— "when  their  matter  is  most  heavenly  their  style  is  -^ 
most  lofty."  In  short,  Lodge  concludes  that  it  is  plain  that  poetry 
"cometh  not  by  exercise  of  play  making,  neither  insertion  of  gauds,  but 
from  nature,  and  from  above.  "^  This  idea  he  expresses  in  rapturous 
verse  in  his  epistle  "To  Master  Michael  Drayton":'* 

Oh  let  that  holy  flame,  that  heavenly  light. 

That  led  old  Abraham's  race  in  darksome  night 

Conduct  thy  Muse  unto  that  holy  pitch. 
Which  may  thy  style  with  praises  more  enrich. 
The  heavenly  fury  doctrine  is  enthusiastically  held  by  E.  K.,  who,  it 
is  significant,  finds  it  notably  exemplified  in  the  "new  poetry"  of  the 
Shepherd 's  Calendar.  Commenting,  in  his  gloss,  on  the  last  part  of  the 
October  eclogue,  he  declares  that  the  author  "  seemeth  here  to  be  ravished 
with  a  poetical  fury. "  Of  the  emblem  of  this  eclogue,  (Est  deus  in  nobis) 
agitante  calescimus  illo,  he  says,  "hereby  is  meant,  as  also  in  the  whole 
course  of  this  eclogue,  that  poetry  is  a  divine  instinct,  and  unnatural 
rage,  passing  the  reach  of  common  reason."  His  comment  in  the 
argument  to  this  eclogue  is  significant  as  indicating  Spenser's_own 
theory,  which  he  had  presented  "at  large"  in  his  English  Poet.  (Poetry 
is  "a  divine  gift  and  heavenly  instinct, "declares  E.  K.,  "not  to  be  gotten 
by  labor  and  learning,  but  adorned  with  both ;  and  poured  into  the  wit  by 
a  certain  evdovaiaaiuos  and  celestial  inspiration,  as  the  author  hereof 
elsewhere  at  large  discourseth  in  his  book  called  The  English  PoeL^ 
Although  E.  K.  is  much  gratified  to  find  the  heavenly  fury  idea  exempli- 
fied in  the  theory  and  practice  of  Spenser,  he  is  disturbed  to  find  manifes- 
tations of  something  similar  in  writers  who  ought  to  be  deterred  from 
poetic  practice  altogether.  "The  rakehelly  rout  of  our  ragged  rimers," 
he  complains,  "without  reason  rage  and  foam,  as  if  some  instinct  of 
poetical  spirit  had  newly  ravished  them  above  the  meanness  of  common 
capacity."^    The  "divine  instinct  and  unnatural  rage,"  unhappily  for 

ub.,  n-n. 

*  A  Fig  for  Momus,  Epistle  5. 

*  Ded.  Shepherd's  Caletidar.  Bishop  Hall  also  complains  later  that  men  "whose 
talent  is  hardly  worth  a  farthing"  lay  about  them  "so  outrageously  as  if  all  HeUcon 
had  run  through"  their  pens  {Martin  Mar-Sixlus  [1592];  see  Chappell,  Popular  Music, 
ii,    106). 


68  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

poetry  thought  E.  K.  and  others,  could  not  in  this  age  of  Ehzabeth  be 
confined  to  the  elect. 

Spenser's  characteristic  attitude  toward  poetry  is  that  of  exaltation. 
The  theory  that  poetic  abihty  "is  a  divine  gift  and  heavenly  instinct" 
possessed  his  emotions  and  intellect,  appealing  powerfully  to  his  religious 
feelings  and  animating  his  high  aspirations  for  the  art  of  poetry,  toward 
which  his  attitude  combines  that  of  a  chivalrous  knight  and  a  devout 
worshiper.  To  him  the  essential  condition  for  poetic  composition  is  to 
be  found  in  a  noble  spirit  in  a  high  state  of  intellectual  and  emotional 
exaltation.  Only  under  such  circumstances  can  beauty,  truth,  and 
goodness  receive  adequate  poetic  expression;  and  with  but  a  few  select 
spirits  is  it  possible, — the  poetic  "visitations  of  divinity  in  man"^  are 
only  to  the  elect.  The  idea  that  poetry  is  a  manifestation  of  divine 
passion  then  appeals  to  Spenser  especially  for  two  reasons:, first,  it 
makes  poetry  a  rare  and  unusual  gift  above  the  reach  of  ordinary  mortals; 
and  secondly^  it  makes  it  an  almost  sacred  expression  of  the  thoughts  and 
feelings  of  noblest  spirits  at  times  of  highest  exaltation.  This  attitude 
toward  poetry  is  strongly  reflected  in  the  tone  and  spirit  of  Spenser's  own 
work,  and  indeed  is  consciously  expressed  in  the  very  act  of  composition 
in  one  of    his  most  characteristic  poems.  An  Hymn  of  Heavenly  Beauty. 

Rapt  with  the  rage  of  mine  own  ravisht  thought, 

Through  contemplation  of  those  goodly  sights, 

And  glorious  images  in  heaven  wrought, 

Whose  wondrous  beauties,  breathing  sweet  delights, 

Do  kindle  love  in  high  conceited  sprights; 

I  fain  to  tell  the  things  that  I  behold 

But  feel  my  wits  to  fail,  and  tongue  to  fold. 

Vouchsafe  then,  O  thou  most  almighty  Spright! 
From  whom  all  gifts  of  wit  and  knowledge  flow, 
To  shed  into  my  breast  some  sparkling  light 
Of  thine  eternal  truth,  that  I  may  show 
Some  little  beams  to  mortal  eyes  below 
Of  that  immortal  beauty,  there  with  thee. 

The  poetic  spirit  being  in  unison  with  the  Divine, 

Then  shall  thy  ravisht  soul  inspired  be 

With  heavenly  thoughts  far  above  human  skill, 

*  Shelley,  Defense  of  Poetry. 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  69 

And  thy  bright  radiant  eyes  shall  plainly  see 
Th'  Idea  of  his  pure  glory  present  still 
Before  thy  face,  that  all  thy  spirits  shall  fill 
With  sweet  engagement  of  celestial  love, 
Kindled  through  sight  of  those  fair  things  above. 

The  conclusion  is  warranted  that  Spenser's  own  work  is  deeply  influenced 
by  the  doctrine  of  divine  inspiration;  and  further,  that  the  great  differ- 
ence between  his  poetry  and  that  of  Dryden  and  Pope  is  due,  in  large 
measure,  to  the  faith  held  in  common  by  Spenser  and  other 
Elizabethans  that  "peerless  poesy"  is  a  "heavenly  instinct"  and  the 
result  of  heavenly  exaltation.  This  faith,  it  may  be  added,  fostered  in 
such  poets  as  Shelley  the  idea  expressed  in  his  Defense  of  Poetry  that 
"poetry  redeems  from  decay  the  visitations  of  divinity  in  man,"  and  it 
made  Spenser  the  "poets'  poet." 

An  interesting  instance  of  the  way  in  which  the  exaltation  of  poetry 
by  the  doctrine  of  divine  inspiration  impressed  itself  is  to  be  found  in 
Henry  Olney,  the  publisher  of  Sidney's  Apology,  who  in  his  note  "To  the 
Reader"  expresses  himself  on  this  point  with  enthusiasm  corresponding 
to  that  of  E.  K.  for  the  work  of  the  author  of  the  Shepherd's  Calendar. 
He  calls  upon  "excellent  poesy"  to  be  his  "defendress"  and  to  commend 
her  "most  divinest  fury,"  and  expects  to  receive  praise  "as  the  first 
public  bewrayer  of  poesy's  messias,"  the  "divine  Sir  Philip  Sidney," 
who — apparently  a  poet  by  a  sort  of  divine  right  of  his  nobility — with 
his  "sacred  pen-breathing  words"  has  forever  banished  "the  stormy 

winter which    hath  so  long  held  back  the  glorious  sunshine  of 

divine  poesy."'' 

Sidney's  genuinely  exalted  conception  of  poetry,  closely  akin  to  that 
of  Spenser,^  is  eloquently  set  forth  in  his  Apology,  evidently  with  the 
intent  of  dispelling  mean  and  inadequate  notions  of  the  art  and  elevating 
it  to  a  position  worthy  of  its  high  nature.  In  view  of  the  perversions  of 
the  "poet-apes,"  he  asserts  that  poetry,  because  of  its  very  nature, 
"must  not  be  drawn  by  the  ears;  it  must  be  gently  led,  or  rather  it  must 
lead."     Recognizing  its  exalted  qualities,  the  "ancient-learned  afiirm 

it a  divine  gift,  and  no  human  skill. "     "All  other  knowledges  lie 

ready  for  any  that  hath  strength  of  wit,"  but  no  industry  can  make  a 

^  Smith,   i,    149. 

8  Prof.  J.  B.  Fletcher  speaks  of  the  "bardic  notion"  of  these  two  friends  and  thinks 

that  "the  simultaneous  enunciation  of  a  root  principle  of  their  art can  hardly 

be  regarded  as  other  than  concerted  action"  ("Areopagus  and  Pleiade",  p.  431). 


70  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

poet  if  he  has  not  the  gift.  The  apish  imitation  of  the  matter  and  style 
of  other  men  cannot  result  in  poetry;  the  poet  must  be  "overmastered" 
by  the  spiritual  force  stirring  within  his  own  soul.  The  genuine  poets  of 
antiquity  were  gifted  with  an  instinctive  perception  of  truth  and  beauty; 
and  philosophers,  attracted  by  the  "true  points  of  knowledge"  contained 
in  poetry,  analyzed  and  put  into  method  that  which  the  poets  before  them 
"did  only  teach  by  a  divine  forgetfulness. "^  Sidney,  like  Lodge,  holds 
that  style  as  well  as  subject-matter  is  heightened  by  divine  inspiration. 
Speaking  again  of  poetry  among  the  ancients,  he  says,  "That  same 
exquisite  observing  of  number  and  measure  in  words,  and  that  high  flying 
liberty  of  conceit  proper  to  the  poet,  did  seem  to  have  some  divine  force 
in  it."^"  He  cites  Plato  as  attributing  to  poetry  "a  very  inspiring  of  a 
divine  force,"  and  conjures  his  readers  to  believe  with  Tandin  that  poets 
"are  so  beloved  of  the  gods  that  whatsoever  they  write  proceeds  of  a 
divine  fury.  "^^  Like  Lodge,  too,  he  seeks  to  establish  the  exalted  nature 
of  poetry  by  scriptural  citations,  affirming  the  holy  David's  psalms  to  be 
"a  divine  poem,"  for  what  else  are  "his  notable  prosopopoeias,  when  he 
niaketh  you,  as  it  were,  see  God  coming  in  his  majesty;  his  telling  of  the 
beasts'  joyfulness,  and  hills  leaping,  but  a  heavenly  poesy,  wherein  al- 
most he  sheweth  himself  a  passionate  lover  of  that  unspeakable  and 
everlasting  beauty  to  be  seen  by  the  eyes  of  the  mind,  only  cleared  by 
faith.  "^"  Here  as  elsewhere  Sidney's  exalted  conception  of  poetry  is 
animated  by  an  ardent,  worshipful  religious  fervor  almost  exactly  paral- 
leled in  the  attitude  of  Spenser.^^     Creative  poetry  is  to  him  a  religious 

'Smith,    i,    190. 

"76.,  154.  Cp.  "Much  is  the  force  of  heaven-bred  poesy"  {Two  Gentlemen  of 
Verona,  III,  ii,  72);  and  "All  true  poets'  raptures  are  divine"  (Heywood,  Mermaid  ed., 
p.  ix). 

» Ih.,     192,     206. 

12  lb.,  154,  155. 

"  A  further  interesting  parallel,  exuberantly  expressed,  occurs  in  Barnaby  Barnes' 
address  "To  the  Favorable  and  Christian  Reader"  of  A  Divine  Century  of  Spiritual 

Sonnets  (1595):  "The  glorious  subject would in  some  richer  and  more 

copious  inventions,  raise  the  triumphant  chariot  of  your  sacred  muses  above  the  star- 
bearing  firmament;  and  upon  the  spiritual  Pegasus  of  celestial  poesy,  in  divine  harmony 
of  spirit,  bear  the  writer  to  that  majestic  throne  and  hemicycle  of  incomparable  state 

and  comfortable  dignity,  where  he  should forever  sing And  if  any  man 

feel  in  himself,  by  the  secret  fire  of  immortal  enthusiasm,  the  learned  motions  of  strange 
and  divine  passions  of  spirit;  let  him  refine  and  illuminate  his  numerous  muses 
with  the  most  sacred  splendor  of  the  Holy  Ghost;  and  then  he  shall  with  divine  Salust 
(the  true  learned  French  poet)  find,  that  as  human  fury  maketh  a  man  less  than  a  man 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  71 

manifestation.  The  real  poet  with  God-given  power  becomes  a  creator 
or  maker,  "doth  grow  in  effect  another  nature,"  and  "with  the  force  of 
a  divine  breath  he  bringeth  things  forth  far  surpassing"  the  "doings"  of 
nature."  The  conclusion  is,  that  for  the  perception  and  poetic  embodi- 
ment of  highest  beauty  and  truth  the  poet  must  be  possessed  of  divine 
inspiration.  In  exaltation  of  spirit  he  must  transcend  this  brazen 
world  and  enter  into  the  golden  heavenly  world,  for  only  thus  can  his 
art,  with  its  "sweet  and  sacred  mysteries, "  its  "heart-ravishing  knowl- 
edge," its  "planet-like  music,"  its  "divine  delightfulness, "  be  poetry  in 
the  truest  and  highest  sense. 

James  VI  of  Scotland,  though  sometimes  reproached  for  his  mechani- 
cal conception  of  poetry,  holds  enthusiastically,  it  appears,  to  the  idea  of 
divine  inspiration  of  poets  as  of  kings.  In  the  title  of  his  Essays  of  a 
Prentice  he  terms  poetry  a  "divine  art";  and  in  his  Urania  or  Heavenly 
Muse,  translated  from  Du  Bartas,  he  places  before  his  readers  a  most 
elevated  conception  of  poetry  involving  the  doctrine  of  divine  inspiration. 

All  art  is  learned  by  art,  this  art  alone 
It  is  a  heavenly  gift:  no  flesh  nor  bone 
Can  preise  the  honey  we  from  Find  distill. 

Except  with  holy  fire  his  breast  we  fill 

A  holy  trance  to  highest  heaven  him  bring: 
For,  even  as  human  fury  makes  the  man 
Less  than  the  man;  so  heavenly  fury  can 
Make  man  pass  man,  and  wander  in  holy  mist, 

Upon  the  fiery  heaven  to  walk  at  list 

Even  so,  their  fury  lasting,  lasts  their  tone; 
Their  fury  ceast,  their  muse  doth  stay  anone.^^ 

so  divine  rage  and  sacred  instinct  of  a  man  maketh  more  than  a  man,  and  leadeth 

him  from  his  base  terrestrial  estate,  to  walk  above  the  stars  with  angels  immortally" 
(Heliconia,  ii,  ed.  T.  Park).     Harvey  is  moved  to  speak  of  Du  Bartas  as  "a  right 
inspired  and  enravished  poet even  in  the  next  degree  to  the  sacred  and  rever- 
end style  of  heavenly  Divinity  itself"  {Works,  Grosart,  ii,  103). 
"  Smith,  i,  156,  157.     Cp.  Wordsworth  (end  of  Prelude):     . 
The    mind    of    man    becomes 
A   thousand   times   more   beautiful   than   the   earth 

On  which  he  dwells,  above  this  frame  of  things 

In  beauty   exalted,   as  it   is   itself 
Of  quality  and   fabric   more   divine. 
"  See  sections  on  "Poesy"  and  "Poets",  England's  Parnassus,  Heliconia,  iii.  pp- 
280,  284. 


72  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

Webbe  and  Puttenham,  neither  of  them  having  in  any  large  measure 
experienced  poetic  inspiration,  are  not  so  enthusiastic  with  regard  to  the 
doctrine  of  heavenly  inspiration,  though  both  accept  it  as  a  matter  of 
scholastic  learning  and  as  a  means  of  elevating  the  conception  of  poetry. 
Webbe  finds  the  opinion  confirmed  in  the  works  of  Plato  and  Aristotle 
that  all  wisdom  and  knowledge  are  "included  mystically  in  that  divine 
instinction  wherewith  they  thought  their  Vates  to  be  inspired.  "^^  Cicero 
also,  he  finds,  considers  "celestial  instinction"  necessary  for  the  highest 
poetical  expression.  To  the  authority  of  the  ancients  on  this  matter  he 
adds  that  of  the  author  of  the  Shepherd's  Calendar,  quoting  from  Ovid 
the  emblem  of  the  October  eclogue,  "£5/  deus  in  nobis;  agitante  calescimus 
illo,"  and  also  Spenser's  lines, 

Then  make  thee  wings  of  thine  aspiring  wit, 

And,  whence  thou  camest,  fly  back  to  heaven  apace." 

Puttenham  asserts  as  a  strong  probability  that  "this  science  in  his 
perfection  cannot  grow  but  by  some  divine  instinct — the  Platonics  call 
it  furor.  "^^  Poets  of  old  were  the  revealers  of  the  "high  mysteries  of  the 
gods. "  Being  the  "first  observers  of  all  natural  causes  and  effects  in  the 
things  generable  and  corruptible,"  they  "from  thence  mounted  up  to 
search  after  the  celestial  courses  and  influences,  and  yet  penetrated  fur- 
ther to  know  the  divine  essences  and  substances  separate."  They  be- 
came the  "first  priests  and  ministers  of  the  holy  mysteries.  And 
because  for  the  better  execution  of  that  high  charge  and  function  it 
behooved  them  to  live  chaste,  and  in  all  holiness  of  life,^^  and  in  continual 
study  and  contemplation,  they  came  by  instinct  divine,  and  by  deep 

'"  Discourse,    Smith,    i,    231. 

"  lb.,  232.  Meres  is  impressed  by  the  idea  and  copies  the  passage  from  Webbe  in 
his  PaUadis  Tamia  (Smith,  ii,  313).  Allot  also  quotes  the  verses  in  England's  Parnassus 
under  "Poetry." 

1'   Art  of  English  Poesy,  Smith,  ii,  3. 

"  Cp.  Drayton  (Ode  I,  "To  Himself  and  the  Harp"): 

Apollo    and    the    Nine 
Forbid  no  man  their  shrine, 
That  Cometh  with  hands  pure; 
Else  they  be  so  divine 
They  will  not  him  endure. 

Jonson,  contemplating  the  high  "offices  and  functions  of  a  poet inter- 
preter and  arbiter  of  nature,  a  teacher  of  things  divine  no  less  than  human",  remarks 
on  the  "impossibility  of  any  man's  being  the  good  poet,  without  first  being  a  good 
man"    (Ded.    Volpone). 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  73 

meditation,  and  much  abstinence  (the  same  as  subtihng  and  refining 
their  spirits)  to  be  made  apt  to  receive  visions,  both  waking  and  sleeping, 
which  made  them  utter  prophecies  and  foretell  things  to  come."  Thus, 
by  plain  and  holy  living  and  high  thinking  poets  were  exalted  to  a  state 
fit  to  receive  divine  inspiration  by  which  they  were  constrained  to  express 

noble  and  lofty  thoughts  and  feelings  in  "a  manner  of  utterance 

of  extraordinary  phrase above   all  others  sweet  and  civil."     All 

honor,  therefore — and  no  "scorn  or  indignity" — is  due  such  a  "noble, 
profitable,  and  divine  a  science  as  poesy."-*' 

Sir  John  Harington,  harboring  resentment  against  Puttenham  for 
his  imputation  that  translators  are  but  versifiers,  declares  with  some 
scorn  for  the  latter's  critical  treatise  that  he  will  not  trouble  "  to  dispute 
how  high  and  supernatural  the  name  of  a  maker  is,  "-^  though  he  agrees 
with  Sidney  that  poetry  "is  a  gift  and  not  an  art,"  as  he  mischievously 
finds  demonstrated  by  the  poetical  attempts  of  Puttenham,  who  laboring 
to  make  poetry  an  art  "sheweth  himself  so  slender  a  gift  in  it."^^  Har- 
ington's  comparative  indifiference  toward  supernaturalism  and  divine 
inspiration  in  poetry,  however,  is  not  due  entirely  to  his  pique  against 
Puttenham,  for  though  he  shows  great  respect  for  Sidney's  Apology,  from 
which  he  frequently  borrows,  he  is  not  wholly  in  accord  with  the  latter's 

exalted  conception  of  poetry.     He  "cannot  deny in  respect  of  the 

high  end  of  all,  which  is  the  health  of  our  souls,"  that  poetry  is  "in  a 
manner  vain  and  superfluous. "  On  the  other  hand,  however,  he  finds 
that  as  a  sort  of  popular  philosophy  and  divinity  it  serves  well  as  intro- 
ductory to  the  more  "deep  and  profound  study"  of  the  "high  mysteries 
of  our  salvation";  and  he  concludes  that  for  a  young  man  there  is  no 
better  study  than  poesy,  "specially  heroical  poesy,  that  with  her  sweet 
stateliness  doth  erect  the  mind  and  lift  it  up  to  the  consideration  of  the 
highest  matters."^ 

The  slightly  skeptical  attitude  expressed  by  Harington,  colored 
somewhat  by  his  grudge  against  Puttenham,  is  unusual  among  the  critics 

2"  Smith,  ii,  7,  9,  10. 

"■^  Even  scoffers  of  poetry,  it  seems,  accepted  the  "fury"  idea,  though  deprecating 
effects.  Francis  Davison  challenges  such  in  the  title  of  his  miscellany,  A  Poetical 
Rhapsody,  and  writes  in  his  preface  that  if  the}'  "affirm  that  it  doth  intoxicate  the  brain 
and  make  men  utterly  imfit,  either  for  more  serious  studies,  or  for  any  active  course  of 
life,  I  only  say  Jubeo  te  stultum  esse  libenter"  (ed.  BuUen,  i,  4). 

22  Pref.  Orlando  Furioso,  Smith,  ii,  196,  197. 

^Ib.,   197,   198. 


74  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

and  poets,  who  in  general  hold  zealously  to  the  exalted  conception 
embodied  in  the  theory  of  divine  inspiration, — that 

Like  Pegasus,  a  poet  must  have  wings 
To  fly  to  heaven,  or  where  him  liketh  best; 
He  must  have  knowledge  of  eternal  things; 
Almighty  Jove  must  harbor  in  his  breast.^ 

"Lay  chronigraphers, "  says  Nash,  "want  the  wings  of  choice  words  to 

fly  to  heaven,  which  we  have Poetry  is  the  honey  of  all  flowers, 

the  quintessence  of  all  sciences,  the  marrow  of  wit  and  the  phrase  of 
angels."'^  He  accounts  poetry  "a  more  hidden  and  divine  kind  of 
philosophy";'^  and  writing  in  scriptural  tone  he  declares  that  "none 

come  so  near  God  in  wit,  none  more  contemn  the  world despised 

they  are  of  the  world  because  they  are  not  of  the  world happy, 

thrice  happy  are  they  whom  God  hath  doubled  his  spirit  upon  and  given 
a  double  soul  unto  to  be  poets.  "^^  Drayton  observes  that  the  works  of 

Gascoigne  and  Churchyard,  "accounted great   meterers  many  a 

day,"  "have  buried  been,"  because  the  authors  were  "not  inspired  with 
brave  fire.  "^^  In  his  England's  Heroical  Epistles  he  causes  Surrey  to 
say: 

When  heaven  would  strive  to  do  the  best  it  can, 

And  put  an  angel's  spirit  into  a  man. 

The  utmost  power  in  that  great  work  doth  spend. 

When  to  the  world  a  poet  it  doth  intend. 

Chapman,  in  the  Epistle  Dedicatory  prefixed  to  his  translation  of  the 
Odyssey,  enthusiastically  confirms  the  doctrine  of  poetic  rage  and  in 
general  highly  exalts  poetry,  declaring  in  the  preface  to  his  Iliad  that 
Homer's  poems  are  superior  to  those  of  Virgil  in  that  they  "were  writ 
from  a  free  fury,  an  absolute  full  soul,  Virgil's  out  of  a  courtly,  laborious, 
and  altogether  imitatory    spirit.  "^^     Campion  asserts  that  poetry  has 

"^^  Mirror  for  Magistrates,  quoted  in  iingland's  Parnassus  under  "Poets".  The 
orthodox  view  is  further  expressed  in  the  "sacred  poesies"  of  the  Parnassus  in  verses 
that  Allot  quotes  from  Drayton.     The  Muses 

teach   such  as  at  poesy  repine, 
That  it  is  only  heavenly  and  divine. 

^  Pierce  Penniless,  Works,  McKerrow,  i,  194. 

^*  Anatomy  of  Absurdity,  Smith,  i,   328. 

"  Jack  Wilton,  Works,  u,  242. 

^  Of  Poets  and  Poesy;  see  Cambridge  History,  iii,  228. 

^  Smith,  ii,  298. 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  75 

the  effect  of  "raising  the  mind  to  a  more  high  and  lofty  conceit";^"  and 
Wilham  Vaughan  exhorts  that  "poetry  itself  ought  to  be  made  much  of 
as  a  precious  jewel  and  a  divine  gift.  "^^     Daniel  in  his  Defense  of  Rime 

stands  forth  "  to  defend  the  sacred  monuments wherein  so  many 

honorable  spirits  have  sacrificed  to  memory  their  dearest  passions,  show- 
ing by  what  divine  influences  they  have  been  moved.  "^^  The  mode  of 
expression  of  the  passionate  activity  of  the  imagination  is  also  subject, 
Daniel  thinks,  to  these  divine  influences;  for  "by  the  divine  power  of  the 
spirit"  all  may  be  "wrought  into  an  orb  of  order  and  form. "  By  means 
of  "that  mystery  rime,"  he  declares,  "an  eminent  spirit"  is  afforded 

"wings  to  mount as  it  were  beyond  his  power  to  a  far  happier 

flight  ";^^  and  in  his  Musophilus  he  writes, 

And  as  for  poesy 

What  should  I  say?  since  it  is  well  approved 

The  speech  of  heaven,  with  whom  they  have  commerce; 

That  only  seem  out  of  themselves  removed. 

And  do  with  more  than  human  skills  converse.^ 

^^  lb.,  327.  Cp.  Bacon  ("Of  Adversity"):  "In  poesy  where  transcendencies  are 
more    allowed". 

^'  Golden  Grove,  Smith,  ii,  326. 

^  Smith,  ii,  381. 

^Ih.,  265,  366. 

**  Works,  i,  256.     Another  passage  from  Musophilus,  extolling 

Those  numbers  wherewith  heaven  and  earth  are  moved, 
further  expresses  Daniel's  lofty  enthusiasm  for  the  "speech  of  heaven": 

0  blessed    Letters,    that    combine    in    one 
All  ages   past,   and   make   one   Uve   in  all! 
By  you  do  we  confer  with  who  are  gone, 
And   the   dead-Uving   into   council   call; 
By  you  the  unborn  shall  have  communion 
Of  what  we  feel  and  what  doth  us  befall. 

The  general  exaltation  of  poetry  is  voiced  by  Ben  Jonson,  who  in  the  original 
quarto  edition  of  Every  Man  in  His  Humor  (V,  i)  gives  through  his  character  Lorenzo 
junior  a  Spenser-like  rhapsody  in  laudation  of  his  art: 

1  can    refell    opinion,    and    approve 
The   state   of   poesy,    such   as   it   is, 

Blessed,  eternal,  and  most  true  divine 

^  Crowned  with  the  rich  traditions  of  a  soul. 

That   hates   to  have   her   dignity  profaned 
With    any    relish    of    an    earthly    thought, 


76  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

All  this  ardent,  worshipful  promulgation  of  the  loftiness  and  divinely 
mysterious  beauty  and  force  of  poetry  is  a  very  interesting  and  significant 
expression  of  the  spirit  of  the  age  and  eminently  in  accord  with  its  ro- 
mantic enthusiasm,  its  love  of  beauty,  its  chivalry  and  idealism,  as  well 
as  with  its  strong  religious  zeal, — and  in  short  with  its  general  disposition 
to  rise  above  itself.  Indeed,  it  would  be  difficult  to  point  out  a  more 
happy  fusion  of  the  two  great  forces  of  renaissance  and  reformation  than 

Oh  then  how  proud  a  presence  doth  she  bear ! 
Then  she  is  like  herself,  fit  to  be  seen 
Of  none   but   grave   and   consecrated   eyes. 

A  similar  encomium  he  puts  into  the  mouth  of  Ovid  in  his  Poetaster  (I,  ii) : 

O  sacred  poesy,  thou  spirit  of  arts, 

The  soul  of  science,  and  the  queen  of  souls. 

What    profane    violence,    almost    sacrilege, 

Hath   been   offered   thy   divinities       

When,  would  men  learn  but  to  distinguish  spirits, 
And  set  true  difference  twixt  those  jaded  wits 
That  run  a  broken  pace  for  common  hire, 
And  the  high  raptures  of  a  happy  soul. 
Borne  on  the  wings  of  her  immortal  thought, 
That  kicks  at  earth  with  a  disdainful  heel, 

And  beats  at  heaven  gates  with  her  bright  hooves 

They  would  admire  bright  knowledge,  and  their  minds 
Should  ne'er  descend  on  so  unworthy  objects 
As    gold    or    titles. 

Jonson's  acceptance  of  the  idea  of  "poetical  rapture"  is  further  evinced  in  his  Dis- 
coveries (SchelUng,  pp.  75,  76).  After  quoting  Aristotle, — "Nee  potest  grande  aUquid, 
et  supra  caeteros  logui,  nisi  mola  mens," — he  adds,  "then  it  riseth  higher,  as  by  a  divine 
instinct,  when  it  contemns  common  and  known  conceptions.  It  utters  somewhat  above 
a  mortal  mouth".  He  also  cites  Seneca  and  Plato,  quotes  from  Ovid,  "Est  deusinnohis" 
etc.,  and  from  Lipsius,  "scio  poetam  neminem  praestantem  fuisse,  sine  parte  qiiadam 
uberiore  divinae  aurac, "  declaring,  "hence  it  is  that   the   coming  up  of  good  poets 

is  so  thin  and  rare  among  us solus  rex,  ant  pacta,  non 

quotannis  nascilur. " 

Bacon  also  endorses  the  idea  that  in  poetry  is  to  be  found  inspired  idealization. 
The  foundation  of  narrative  or  heroical  poetry,  he  affirms,  "is  truly  noble,  and  has  a 
special  relation  to  the  dignity  of  human  nature".  Further,  "poesy  conduces  not  only 
to  delight,  but  also  to  magnanimity  and  morahty.  Whence  it  may  be  fairly  thought 
to  partake  somewhat  of  a  divine  nature;  because  it  raises  the  mind  and  carries  it  aloft, 
accommodating  the  shows  of  things  to  the  desires  of  the  mind"  {De  Augmentis, 
Bk.  n,  chap.  xiii). 

In  Milton's  opinion  "poetry  is  a  gift  granted  by  God  only  to  a  few  in  every  nation" 
(Spingam,  Lit.  Crit.,  p.   280). 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  77 

this  idealistic  exaltation  of  the  art  which  was  held  most  adequately  to 
give  expression  to  the  noblest  ideals  of  beauty  and  moral  excellence.  To 
the  Anglo-Saxon  love  of  virtue  had  been  added  the  southern  love  of 
beauty  and  the  fusion  of  these  two  forces  in  the  inspirational  idcAlism  of 
poetry  was  a  consummation  (pre-puritan)  highly  expressive  of  the  literary 
spirit  of  this  age  of  song. 

To  the  critics  and  poets  of  the  time  the  idea  of  the  exalted  and  essen- 
tially divine  nature  of  poetry  was  evidently  peculiarly  acceptable.  It 
recommended  itself  to  them  not  only  because  of  its  accord  with  their 
thought  and  feeling,  but  also  because  of  the  possibility  of  its  practical 
influence  in  the  advancement  of  national  poetic  art.  Poetry  as  a  "gift 
divine,"  the  result  of  celestial  inspiration,  indubitably  could  be  vouch- 
safed only  to  the  elect,  to  a  few  eminent  spirits  who  would  not  abuse  and 
disgrace  the  art.  Such  a  conception  of  poetry,  it  was  felt,  ought  to  at- 
tract to  the  art  the  noblest  spirits  and  deter  unworthy  practitioners,  who, 
not  realizing  its  superior  and  exalted  character,  rashly  degraded  it.  By 
establishing  a  reverential  attitude  toward  the  art  it  might  be  saved  from 
the  vulgar  familiarity  that  threatened  its  demoralization.  The  ardent 
advocacy  in  Elizabethan  days  of  the  transcendent  nature  of  poetry  should 
therefore  not  be  lightly  dismissed  as  "pretty  Platonizings "  and  "un- 
practical aberrations";  for  the  lofty  ideals  evidently  held  with  sincerity 
by  these  men  were  promulgated  and  emphasized  for  the  very  practical 
purpose  of  saving  and  advancing  English  poetry. 

Moreover,  the  idea  of  the  exalted  nature  of  poetry  is  strongly 
reflected  in  the  tone  and  spirit  of  Elizabethan  poetry  itself,  poets  even 
sometimes  showing  as  they  write  consciousness  of  being  possessed  of  the 
heavenly  fury — though  Carlyle  would  say  this  "consciousness"  was  not 
best.  Spenser  is  "rapt  with  the  rage"  of  his  "ravisht  thought."  Mar- 
lowe, scorning  the  "jigging  veins  of  riming  mother  wits,"  rises  above 
them  into  a  state  to  make  his  Scythian  Tamburlaine  threaten  "the 
world  with  high  astounding  terms."  Indeed,  the  transcendental  feeling 
toward  poetry, 

this  music  of  the  soul. 
The  fairest  child  that  ere  the  soul  brought  forth,^= 

helps  to  explain  the  paradox  that  often  men  of  this  age,  living  like 
demons,  write  like  angels, — as  Marlowe,  traditionally,  with 

**  Pilgrimage  to  Parnassus,  Act  V,  11.  534-5. 


78  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

Wit  lent  from  heaven,  but  vices  sent  from  hell.'^ 

To  men  of  letters  of  these  "  spacious  days, "  poetry  is  as  a  benign  goddess 
under  whose  gracious  influence  poetic  spirits  are  exalted  above  their 
ordinary  selves  into  a  state  "passing  the  reach  of  common  reason," 
wherein,  as  they  distill  the  "heavenly  quintessence"  "from  their  immor- 
tal flowers  of  poesy, "  they  attain  "  the  highest  reaches  of  a  human  wit.  "'^ 
In  youthful  exaltation  godlike  spirits  with  faith  in  their  inspiration  yield 
themselves  up  to  transports  of  thought  and  emotion,  perceiving  and 
setting  forth  beauty  and  truth  beyond  ordinary  apprehension.  "Rapt 
in  the  divine"  the  poet  is  constrained  to  pour  forth  in  noble  utterance  the 
sacred  mysteries  that  awaken  and  refine  the  human  heart  and  under- 
standing. Assuredly  inspiration  and  the  power  and  delight  of  imagina- 
tion were  in  the  days  of  Elizabeth  matters  of  faith  and  experience;  and 
the  lofty  idealism  centering  about  poetry  was,  as  is  everywhere  palpably 
evident,  a  potent  force  in  creative  art  as  well  as  in  criticism.  There  is 
always  a  counter- tide  to  any  great  force  in  life  or  nature;  and  the  so- 
called  Elizabethan  distrust  of  the  imagination  may  be  regarded  as 
evidence  that  bears  further  witness  to  the  fact  that  with  the  best  poets 
and  critics  of  this  period  the  imagination  was  exalted,  trusted,  and  used 
as,  perhaps,  in  no  other  period  of  English  poetry. 

II.  Matter  and  Form — Relative  Importance 

Although  the  critics  of  this  period  devote  much  attention  to  matters 
of  poetic  form  and  sometimes  consider  the  form  or  style  as  well  as  the 
content  to  be  a  result  of  divine  inspiration,  they  are  generally  agreed  in 
theory  as  to  the  superior  importance  of  content  or  of  the  values  that  lie 
back  of  outward  expression.  Their  theory,  assuming  poetry  to  be  pro- 
duced by  inspiration  and  the  free  play  of  genius  rather  than  by  rule, 
"a  gift  rather  than  an  art,"  in  the  main  subordinates  the  more  material 
aspect  of  form  to  the  moral  and  spiritual  values  of  content.  With  the 
aim  of  advancing  poetic  art,  much  attention  to  be  sure  is  given  to  such 
matters  as  versification,  but  repeatedly  occurs  the  qualification  that 
versifying  does  not  make  poetry.  Moreover,  there  is  often  evident  the 
feeling  that  poetry  may  be  somewhat  protected  from  the  ravages  of  the 

^'  Return  from  Parnassus,  Act  I,  sc.  ii.  Cp.  Daniel's  lines  quoted  by  Wordsworth 
in  The  Excursion  (Bk.  IV,  11.  330-1): 

Unless  himself  above  himself  he  can 
Erect  himself,  how  poor  a  thing  is  man. 

''  Marlowe,   Tamburlaine,  Act  V,   sc.  ii. 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  79 

versifiers  by  fitly  placing  the  emphasis  on  its  more  unattainable  aspects. 
Much  space,  it  is  true,  is  devoted  by  some  of  the  critics  to  discussion  of 
the  various  kinds  and  forms  of  poetry,  but  it  should  be  observed  that  in 
such  cases  attention  is  usually  centered  chiefly  upon  the  character  of  the 
subject-matter  and  upon  its  purposes  and  effects  rather  than  upon  the 
outward  form,  which  itself  is  regarded  as  subordinate  and  determined  by 
the  nature  of  the  subject-matter  treated.  Often,  therefore,  discussions 
ostensibly  of  forms  are  essentially  discussions  of  different  kinds  of  sub- 
jects and  purposes  therein  involved — attempts  to  show  the  various 
applications  of  poetry  to  life  and  conduct, — content  taking  precedence 
over  execution,  matter  over  manner.  Many  writers,  too,  down  through 
the  period,  express  themselves  decidedly  against  the  ever  menacing  nar- 
row and  mechanical  views  of  poetry  that  tend  to  degrade  the  art  by 
over-emphasizing  superficialities. 

Sir  Thomas  Elyot  had  expressed  the  opinion  in  his  Governor  that 
"who  that  hath  nothing  but  language  only  may  be  no  more  praised  than 
a  popinjay,  a  pie,  or  a  stare,  when  they  speak  featly";  and  "that  they  be 
much  abused  that  suppose  eloquence  to  be  only  in  words  or  colors  of 
rhetoric,  for,  as  Tully  saith,  what  is  so  furious  or  mad  a  thing  as  a  vain 
sound  of  words  of  the  best  sort  and  most  ornate,  containing  neither 
cunning  nor  sentence."  He  had  also  accepted  the  idea  of  "ancient 
writers"  that  "they  that  make  verses,  expressing  thereby  none  other 

learning  but  the  craft  of  versifying,  be  not named  poets,  but  only 

called  versifiers."^  This  view,  a  familiar  one  to  Elizabethan  critics,  is 
usually  supported  even  by  those  who  devote  their  attention  mainly  to 
matters  of  form.  Gascoigne,  for  instance,  although  writing  with  the 
express  purpose  of  giving  instructions  in  verse  making,  deprecates  rime 
without  reason  and  at  the  outset  takes  pains  to  insist  that  the  essential 
and  fundamental  consideration  in  producing  poetry  is  invention,  his  own 
opinion  coinciding  with  that  of  Ronsard  and  others, — "  the  first  and  most 
necessary  point,"  he  declares,  "that  ever  I  found  to  be  considered  in 
making  of  a  delectable  poem  is  this,  to  ground  it  upon  some  fine  inven- 
tion." This  point,  though  "hardest  to  be  prescribed,"  is  "most  to  be 
marked";  and  Gascoigne  exhorts  the  poet  to  "stand  most  upon  the 
excellency"  of  his  invention  and  to  "take  heed  that  neither  pleasure  of 
rime  nor  variety  of  device"  carry  him  from  it.  He  believes,  as  later  did 
Wordsworth,  that  "  it  is  not  enough  to  roll  in  pleasant  words nor 

lEd.  Croft,  i,   116,   120. 


80  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

yet  to  abound  in  apt  vocables  or  epithets."^  The  outward  vesture  or 
style  must  always  be  subordinated  and  ruled  by  the  more  important 
groundwork  of  thought. 

Lodge  also  makes  substance  rather  than  style  the  determining  ele- 
ment, declaring  of  the  writings  of  poets  that  "  when  their  matter  is  most 
heavenly  their  style  is  most  lofty,"  and  agreeing  with  Lactantius  that 
"if  we  weigh  poets'  words  and  not  their  meaning,  our  learning  in  them 
will  be  very  mean. "^  He  commends  Spenser  as  having  "the  palm  for 
deep  invention  won"^  rather  than  for  stylistic  features.  Nash  likewise 
extols  Spenser,  "the  miracle  of  wit,"  for  his  "deep  conceit,"^  on  the 
ground  of  which  he  will  challenge  the  world — and  this  was  before  the 
publication  of  the  Faery  Queen.  Others  praise  the  poet  for  similar 
merits;  Meres,  for  instance,  speaking  for  his  age,  asserts  that  Spenser  is 
"honored  for  fine  poetical  invention  and  most  exquisite  wit. ""^  It  has 
been  remarked  by  modern  critics  that  the  Shepherd'' s  Calendar  represents 
the  young  poet's  experimentation  in  various  forms  and  styles  of  verse, 
his  interest  being  primarily  artistic.  It  should  be  noted,  however,  that 
Spenser  is  here  putting  into  practice  the  critical  theory  of  himself  and 
others  of  his  time  that  various  kinds  of  subject-matter  demand  corres- 

^  Notes  of  Instruction,  Smith,  i,  47,  48.  Harvey  is  impressed  with  these  ideas  and 
comments  in  the  margin  of  Gascoigne's  Notes,  "A  pithy  rule  in  Sir  Philip's  Apology 
for  Poetry.  The  invention  must  guide  and  rule  the  elocution:  non  contra"  (Smith,  i, 
360,  note).  Ben  Jonson  finds  "divine  poesy"  "half  starved  for  want  of  her  pecuUar 
food,  sacred  invention".  Though  deprecating  "obstinate  contemners"  of  art,  "pre- 
sumers  on  their  own  naturals"  (Pref.  Alchemist,  ed.  1612),  he  puts  "matter  above 
words"  (Prol.  Cynthia's  Revels),  and  in  his  Poetaster  (V,  i)  makes  Virgil  say,  "Let 
your  matter  run  before  your  words". 

3  Smith,  i,  72,  73.     Cf.  J.  P.  Hoskins:  "Form is  determined  by 

the  emotional  element  in  consciousness"  {Pub.  Mod.  Lang.  Assoc,  Sept.,  1910). 
"Arcadianism  is  an  emotional  medium  for  the  expression  of  lofty  and  heroic  thought, " 
observes  F.  E.  Schelling  {Literature  during  the  Lifetime  of  Shakespeare,  p.  43). 

*  Phillis,   Moulton's  Library  of  Criticism,  i,   392. 

''  Pref.   Menaphon,   Smith,  i,   318. 

^  Palladis  Tamia,  Smith,  ii,  316.  Cp.  Richard  Barnfield's  couplet  from  A  Remem- 
brance of  Some  English  Poets: 

Live  Spenser  ever,  in  thy  Faery  Queen, 
Whose  like  for  deep  conceit  was  never  seen, 


Also, 


Spenser,  to  me  whose  deep  conceit  is  such, 
As,  passing  all  conceit,  needs  no  defense. 

— English  Scholars'  Library,  No.   14,  pp.   118,   119. 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  81 

ponding  variations  of  form  and  style,  the  subject-matter  dominating  and 
determining  the  style,  which  stands  as  an  attempt  to  adapt  outer  raiment 
fittingly  to  inner  beauty  and  significance,  and  which  derives  importance 
especially  with  reference  to  its  adequacy  as  a  symbol  or  embodiment  of 
content.  Spenser,  himself,  like  Sidney,  is  irritated  at  the  mechanical 
and  superficial  ideals  of  poetry  manifested  in  the  writings  of  the  "base 
vulgar"  who  pollute  and  degrade  her  hidden  mystery. 

Heaps  of  huge  words  uphoarded  hideously. 
With  horrid  sound  though  having  little  sense, 
They  think  to  be  chief  praise  of  poetry.'' 

He  would  have  men  realize  if  possible  that  poetry  is  "a  gift  divine"  not 
to  be  acquired  by  art  alone,  real  superiority  being  based  upon  the  merits 
of  the  underlying  thought  and  spirit.  Indeed,  the  fundamental  con- 
sideration with  him  as  with  Sidney  is  spiritual  content,  psychical  signi- 
ficance, form  being  regarded  as  an  external  manifestation  of  inner 
beauty.  The  whole  view  is  summed  up  in  the  line  fronr  his  Hymn  in 
Honor  of  Beauty: 

Soul  is  form  and  doth  the  body  make. 

The  philosophy  of  poetry  that  disposes  Sidney  to  place  matter  above 
form  is  consciously  applied  to  the  poetry  of  his  day  including  his  own.^ 
One  of  the  main  purposes  of  his  Apology  is  to  dispel  the  illusion  prevaiUng 
among  contemporary  poet-apes  that  versifying  makes  a  poet.  Though 
"art,  imitation,  and  exercise"  are  necessary,  these  will  not  avail  without 
poetic  genius — "a  poet  no  industry  can  make,  if  his  own  genius  be  not 
carried  unto  it poeta  nascitur.'"^   Poetry  is  not  merely  a  mode  of 

'  Tears  of  the  Musex,  1.  553.     Courthope  says  {Hist.  Eng.  Poetry,  ii,  252) :  "Spenser 

saw    that  the  metrical    experiments  both  of    the  classical  revivalists 

and  of  the  letter-hunters  were  rendered  nugatory  by  lack,  of  matter,  and  that,  if  he  was 
to  give  his  art  the  extension  and  the  refinement  which  he  contemplated,  he  must. 

appear    at  least  to    have    something  particular    to  say and  E.  K., 

summarizing  the  merits  of  his  eclogues,  lays  stress  on  the  excellence  of  their  thought. " 

8  Cf.  Astro phel  and  Stella,  I  and  XV.     ScheUing  remarks:  "It  was  one  of  the  prime 

theories  of  Sidney  that  it  was  spirit  and  not  form  which  made  poetry 

In  view  of  such  ideas  we  must  expect  to  find  a  close  relation  in  Sidney's  Arcadia  between 
subject-matter  and  the  form  of  expression"  {op.  cit.,  pp.  42-43). 

9  Smith,  i,  195.  Darnel  concurs  with  this,  but  finds  that  many  poets  were  born  in 
Eliza's  lime,  as  he  notes  in  lines  "to  the  Prince"  (Ded.  Philotas,  1605)  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  next  reign: 


82  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

expression;  its  basis  lies  deeper  in  thought  and  feeling.  Repeatedly 
Sidney  insists  that  "it  is  not  riming  and  versing  that  maketh  a  poet"; 
no  more  does  this  make  a  poet  "than  a  long  gown  maketh  an  advocate, 
who  though  he  pleadeth  in  armor  should  be  an  advocate  and  no  soldier." 
In  his  subordination  of  form  Sidney  goes  so  far  as  to  deny  the  requisite- 
ness  of  verse  at  all:  "One  may  be  a  poet  without  versing,  and  a  versifier 
without  poetry."^"  Poets  to  be  sure  have  usually  "appareled  their 
poetical  inventions  in  that  numbrous  kind  of  writing  which  is  called 
verse:  indeed  but  appareled,  verse  being  but  an  ornament  and  no 
cause  to  poetry,  sith  there  hath  been  many  most  excellent  poets  that 
have  never  versified,  and  now  swarm  many  versifiers  that  need  never 
answer  to  the  name  of  poets.""  To  prove  the  spuriousness  of  much  of 
the  so-called  poetry  of  the  time  "let  but  most  of  the  verses  be  put  in 
prose,  and  then  ask  the  meaning;  and  it  will  be  found  that  one  verse  did 
but  beget  another,"  and  all  is  but  "a  confused  mass  of  words,  with  a 
tingling  sound  of  rime,  barely  accompanied  with  reason.  "^^ 

In  accordance  with  his  conception  of  the  high  nature  of  poetry  and  of 
the  essential  dominance  of  its  inner  content,  Sidney  consistently  repro- 

'Tis  not  in  the  power  of  kings  to  raise 
A  spirit  for  verse  that  is  not  born  thereto, 
For  late  Eliza's  reign  gave  birth  to  more 
Than  all  the  kings  of  England  did  before. 

"76.,   160,   182.     Cp.  Bacon:  "Poesy  is extremely  licensed,  and 

doth  refer  to  the  imagination It  is  taken  in  two  senses  in  respect  of 

words  or  matter.     In  the  first  sense  it  is  but  a  character  of  style,  and  belongeth  to  the 

arts  of  speech In  the  latter  it  is one  of  the  principal 

portions  of  learning,  and  is  nothing  else  but  feigned  history,  which  may  be  styled  as 
weH  in  prose  as  in  verse"  (Adv.  Learning,  Bk.  II,  IV,  1).  Shelley  in  his  Defense  of 
Poetry  says:  "It  is  by  no  means  essential  that  a  poet  should  accommodate  his  lan- 
guage to  this  traditional  form,  so  that  the  harmony,  which  is  the  spirit,  be  observed 

The   distinction   between  poets   and  prose   writers   is  a  vulgar  error. 

Plato  was  essentially  a  poet  —  the  truth  and  splendor  of  his  imagery, 

and  the  melody  of  his  language,  are  the  most  intense  that  it  is  possible  to  conceive. " 

"  lb.,  159-160.  Sir  John  Harington,  with  caustic  reference  to  Puttenham's  nu- 
merous figures,  agrees  with  Sidney  that  poetry  "is  a  gift  and  not  an  art"  and  tha.  verse 
is  "the  clothing  or  ornament".  Upon  the  verse,  however,  "weaker  capacities", 
unable  to  apprehend  the  more  essential  and  profitable  part  of  poetry,  the  content,  may 
feed  themselves,  though  it  is  to  be  deplored  that  people,  especially  "of  the  common  sort 

term    all    that    is    written  in   verse  poetry"  (Pref.  Orlando  Furioso, 

Smith,  i,  197,  203). 

12  lb.,     196. 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  83 

bates  the  conventions  and  artificial  extravagances  of  style  to  be  found  in 
the  poetry  of  his  day.  He  speaks  of  poetic  diction  even  in  its  normal 
aspect  as  but  "the  outside  of  it";  and  in  view  of  the  superficial  affecta- 
tions of  "such  writings  as  come  under  the  banner  of  unresistible  love," 
he  declares  that  poets  "miss  the  right  use  of  the  material  point  of 
poesy. ""  In  composing  his  own  sonnets  he  does  not  forget  his  ideals  nor 
his  detestation  of  the  shallow  conventionalism  that  besets  poetic  art. 

You  that  do  search  for  every  purling  spring 
Which  from  the  ribs  of  old  Parnassus  flows, 
And  every  flower,  not  sweet  perhaps,  which  grows 

Near  thereabouts,  into  your  poesy  wring 

You  that  poor  Petrarch's  long-deceased  woes 
With  new-born  signs  and  denizen'd  wit  do  sing; 
You  take  wrong  ways;  those  far-fet  helps  be  such 
As  do  bewray  a  want  of  inward  touch.^* 

This  "want  of  inward  touch,"  which  Sidney  finds  in  much  of  the 
poetry  of  his  time  in  consequence  of  the  apish  imitation  of  poetic  fashions 
and  conventions,  he  himself  endeavors  to  avoid,  experiencing,  however, 
as  is  indicated  in  his  introductory  sonnet,  something  of  a  conflict  be- 
tween his  own  poetic  ideals  and  the  temptation  to  follow  the  ways  of  the 
poet-ape.  "Studying  inventions  fine,"  he  writes,  and  "oft  turning 
others'  leaves," 

Invention,  Nature's  child,  fled  step-dame  Study's  blows; 
And  others'  feet  still  seemed  but  strangers  in  my  way. 
Thus,  great  with  child  to  speak,  and  helpless  in  my  throes, 
Biting  my  truant  pen,  beating  myself  for  spite; 
Tool,'  said  my  Muse  to  me,  'look  in  thy  heart  and  write.'  ^^ 

"76.,    201. 

^*  Astro phel    and    Stella,    XV.     Cp.    Burns: 

Give    me    ae    spark    o'    Nature's    fire, 

That's  a'  the  learnin  I  desire 

My   Muse,    though    hamely   in    attire, 
^May    touch    the    heart. 

Ben  Jonson  (Discoveries,  p.  49),  speaking  of  "poetry  and  picture,"  says:  "They  both 
are  born  artificers,  not  made.     Nature  is  more  powerful  in  them  than  study". 

'^  lb.,  I.  Cp.  Shakespeare,  who  causes  the  poet  in  Timon  of  Athens  (I,  i,  20)  to 
say: 

A    thing    slipped    idly    from    me. 
Our  poesy  is  as  a  gum,  which  oozes 


84  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

Indeed  Sidney's  own  excuse  for  writing  poetry  is  doubtless  one  that  he 
would  deem  necessary  from  anyone  who  ventured  to  enter  the  field: 
"Only  over-mastered  by  some  thoughts,  I  yielded  an  inky  tribute  unto 
thcm.">« 

Sidney's  emphasis  upon  the  spiritual  content  of  poetry,  then,  due  to 
his  general  conception  of  the  high  nature  and  function  of  the  art,  is 
evidently  heightened  by  the  feeling  that  the  art  is  abused  in  consequence 
of  the  narrow  and  unworthy  conception  that  makes  it  merely  a  matter  of 
form.     The  writer  whose  conception  is  such  that  he  uses  "art  to  shew 

art flyeth   from  nature,  and  indeed  abuseth  art.  "^^     Ridiculous 

conventions  and  affectations  of  style — or  as  Spenser  says,  "heaps  of 
huge  words  uphoarded  hideously" — are  due  largely  to  the  fact  that  men 
wanting  the  essential  "inward  touch,"  lacking  the  necessary  breadth  of 
thought  and  depth  of  feeling,  miss  the  whole  point  of  the  nature  and 
significance  of  poetry,  failing  to  see  that  "soul  is  form"  and  that  without 
a  soul  working  in  noble  thought  and  emotion  art  is  vain. 

King  James  VI  of  Scotland,  who  in  his  Short  Treatise  is  indebted  to 
Gascoigne's  Notes  of  Instruction,  agrees  with  the  latter  as  to  the  pre- 
eminence of  invention.  Although  his  sonnet^^  describing  the  "perfect 
poet"  manifests  a  rather  technical  view,  in  his  Treatise  he  discourages 

conventional  imitation,  insisting  that  "invention is    one  of  the 

chief  properties  of  a  poet"  and  that  "ye  cannot  have  the  invention  ex- 
cept it  come  of  nature."  Nature,  moreover,  he  regards  "as  the  chief 
cause  not  only  of  invention  but  also  of  all  the  other  parts  of  poesy.  For 
art  is  only  but  a  help  and  remembrance  to  nature.  "^^  In  his  preface  he 
expresses  the  wish  that  his  docile  reader,  before  cumbering  himself  with 
reading  the  rules,  may  have  found  in  himself  such  a  beginning  of  nature 
as  to  be  able  to  put  in  practice  in  verse  many  of  the  precepts  without 
having  seen  them  "as  they  are  here  set  down.  For  if  nature  be  not  the 
chief  worker  in  this  art,  rules  will  be  but  a  band  to  nature."  He  lays 
further  stress  upon  this  point  in  a  sonnet  to  the  reader  in  the  last  two 
lines  of  which  he  exhorts. 

From  whence    'tis  nourished.     The  fire  i'   the  flint 
Shows  not  till  it  be  struck;  our  gentle  flame 
Provokes  itself,  and,  like  the  current,  flies 
Each    bound    it    chafes. 

^^  Apology,    Smith,    i,    195. 
"  lb.,     203. 
« Smith,     i,     211. 
"/^».,     220,     221. 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  85 

Then  reidar  sie  of  nature  thou  have  pairt, 

Syne  laikis  thou  nocht  hot  heir  to  reid  the  airt.^" 

Webbe,  who  is  himself  less  of  a  poet  than  almost  any  other  critic  of 
the  period  and  who  is  an  admirer  of  Euphuism  and  an  advocate  of  classi- 
cal metres,  naturally  enough  has  a  comparatively  mechanical  conception 
of  poetry,  as  is  evident  in  his  attempt  to  define  the  art.  Although  he 
states  that  poetry  "may  properly  be  defined  the  art  of  making,"  he  does 
not  seem  to  attach  to  the  term  "making"  the  usual  sense  of  inspired 
creative  faculty,  for  in  enlarging  his  definition  he  declares  that  "  English 

poetry is   where  any  work  is  learnedly  compiled  in  measurable 

speech,  and  framed  in  words  containing  number  or  proportion  of  just 
syllables,  delighting  the  readers  or  hearers  as  well  by  apt  and  decent 
framing  of  words  in  equal  resemblance  of  quantity,  commonly  called 
verse,  as  by  skillful  handling  of  the  matter  whereof  it  is  intreated.  "^^ 
In  the  work  of  the  author  of  the  Shepherd's  Calendar,  which  he  genuinely 
admires,  Webbe  recognizes  poetry  to  be  a  "rare  gift";  though,  unlike 
Sidney,  he  is  also  charmed  by  the  "singular  eloquence  and  brave  com- 
position" of  Master  John  Lyly,  and  in  general  is  prone  to  fasten  his 
attention  upon  "glorious  ornaments,"  or  what  Sidney  calls  the  "outside 
of  it."  His  exposition,  however,  of  the  different  kinds  of  poetry,  like 
that  of  Puttenham,  has  to  do  with  the  nature  and  purposes  of  the  sub- 
ject-matter peculiar  to  each  kind  rather  than  with  form  or  technic. 
Making  the  explicit  divisions  of  "matter"  and  "form,"  he  treats  under 
"matter,"  epic,  eclogue,  georgic,  etc.,  discussing  the  characteristic 
subject-matter  of  each.  Then  with  the  remark,  "  Concerning  the  matter 
of  our  English  writers  let  this  suffice,"  he  turns  to  "form,  that  is,  the 
manner  of  our  verse,  "which  he  discusses  independently,  without  relation 
to  kinds.  That  is  to  say,  Webbe,  like  other  critics  of  the  time,  in  dealing 
with  kinds  is  in  reality  deahng  with  content.  This  fact  should  subtract 
from  the  supposed  dominance  of  interest  in  technic  in  such  critical  writ- 
ings of  this  period  as  those  of  Webbe  and  Puttenham.     Their  "forms" 

^°  lb.,  211.  Cf.  "A]l  art  is  learned  by  art,  this  art  alone  it  is  a  heavenly  gift" 
(England's  Parnassus,  quoting  King  of  Scots).  Cp.  Chapman,  who,  writing  of  the 
failure  of  prevaous  translators  of  Homer,  in  lines  prefked  to  his  own  translation,  finds 
in  nature  rather  than  in  art  the  key  to  success  in  poetry. 

They    failed   to   search   his   deep   and   treasurous   heart. 
The  cause  was  since  they  wanted  the  fit  key 
Of  nature,   in  their  downright   strength  of  art, 
With    poesy    to    open    poes3^ 
"  Discourse,    Smith,    i,    247-8. 


86  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

and  "kinds"  are  often  simply  divisions  or  heads  for  the  discussions  of 
subject-matter  and  the  involved  interests  and  values. 

Puttenham,  though  dealing  avowedly  with  the  "art"  of  poetry  and 
of  all  the  critics  devoting  most  attention  to  ornament  and  to  forms  and 
kinds,  nevertheless  in  his  poetical  theory  exalts  "natural  instinct" 
above  "art  and  precepts. "^^  Indeed,  the  dominance  of  matter  over 
form  is  recognized  in  his  fundamental  doctrine,  that  of  decorum,  for  by 
this  the  form  or  style  should  be  "  according  to  the  matter  and  subject  of 
the  writer and  conformable  thereunto."^'  This  attitude  is  mani- 
fested throughout  his  extensive  treatment  of  poetic  kinds.  In  the 
twenty  chapters  of  his  first  book  that  are  devoted  to  the  different  kinds 
of  poetry,  he  is  mainly  interested  in  subject-matter  or  content,  for  in  his 
estimation  it  is  the  subject-matter  that  determines  or  gives  rise  to  the 
form,  there  being  nothing  else  in  some  cases — except  a  suitable  general 
conformity  of  style — to  make  the  differentiation.  Puttenham,  there- 
fore, though  ostensibly  dealing  with  forms,  really  classifies  under  his 
heads  for  forms  various  social  and  psychic  manifestations,  such,  for 
instance,  as  the  commendation  of  virtue,  the  reprehension  of  vice,  and 
different  kinds  of  lamentations  and  rejoicings,  and  discusses  these  mat- 
ters with  interest  centered  in  the  moral  and  social  values  involved  rather 
than  in  the  technic  or  artistry  of  the  forms  designated  by  his  headings. 

Moreover,  notwithstanding  his  elaborate  treatment  of  ornament  and 
the  astonishing  outfit  of  figures  that  he  places  at  the  disposal  of  English 
poets,  Puttenham  in  his  poetic  theory  insistently  exalts  nature  above 
art.  At  the  end  of  his  presentation  of  figures  he  lays  stress  upon  the 
point  that  all  are  only  "  such  as  without  any  art  at  all  we  should  use,  and 
commonly  do,  even  by  very  nature  without  discipline."^  Figures  are 
indebted  to  nature  herself  for  their  existence  and  in  general  the  studied 
devices  of  literature  are  "a  repetition  or  reminiscence  natural" — even 
rime  came  "by  instinct  of  nature,  which  was  before  art  and  observa- 
tion. "^^  The  devices  of  art,  which  often  smack  of  "scholarly  affecta- 
tion," should  not  be  obtruded,  and  if  a  poet  uses  art  he  should  so  conceal 
it  that  it  may  not  "seem  to  proceed  from  him  by  any  study  or  trade  of 
rules,  but  to  be  his  natural. "^^    Indeed,  a  poet  is  "most  admired  when 

=2  Art  of  English  Poesy,  Smith,  ii,  190. 
23  lb.,     154. 
2"  lb.,     182. 
^^Ib.,  11. 
« lb.,     187. 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  87 

he  is  most  natural  and  least  artificial,"  and  is  to  "be  more  commended  for 
his  natural  eloquence  than  for  his  artificial."  Although  it  is  "better  to 
see  with  spectacles  than  not  to  see  at  all,  yet  is  their  praise  not  equal  nor 
in  any  man's  judgment  comparable:  no  more  is  that  which  a  poet  makes 
by  art  and  precepts  rather  than  by  natural  instinct,  and  that  which  he 
doth  by  long  meditation  rather  than  by  a  sudden  inspiration,  or  with 
great  pleasure  and  facility  than  hardly  and  (as  they  are  wont  to  say)  in 
spite  of  nature  and  Minerva,  than  which  nothing  can  be  more  irksome  or 
ridiculous.  "^^ 

Aside  from  Puttenham's  subordination  of  form  in  his  doctrine  of 
decorum  and  his  idea  that  style  is  the  man,^^  the  reason  why,  though 
ostensibly  a  formalist,  he  insists  in  theory  upon  the  predominance  of 
matter  and  the  ascendency  of  nature  over  art  is  doubtless  to  be  found  in 
his  general  conception  of  the  function  of  poetry.  From  his  statement 
that  the  subject-matter  of  poetry  may  be  anything  "for  any  necessary 
use  of  the  present  time,  or  good  instruction  of  posterity,  "^^  and  from  his 

"'  lb.,  190.     Cp.  Ben  Jonson  {Discoveries,  pp.  75,  TS^i :  "  First,  we  require  of  our  poet 

or  maker a   goodness  of  natural  wit,   ingeniitm.     For,   whereas  all 

other  arts  consist  of  doctrine  and  precepts,  the  poet  must  be  able  by  nature  and  in- 
stinct to  pour  out  the  treasure  of  his  mind".  And  again,  after  giving  requirements 
for  a  poet:  "But  all  this  in  vain,  without  a  natural  wit  and  a  poetical  nature  in  chief". 
Jonson  gives  genius  and  nature  first  place;  though  they  are  not  all  even  in  Shakespeare: 

Yet  must  I  not  give  nature  all;  thy  art. 
My  gentle  Shakespeare,  must  enjoy  a  part. 
For  though  the  poet's  matter  nature  be. 
His  art  doth  give  the  fashion;  and,  that  he 
Who  casts  to  write  a  Kving  line,  must  sweat, 
(Such  as  thine  are)  and  strike  the  second  heat 
Upon  the  Muses'  anvil;  turn  the  same 
(And  himself  with  it)  that  he  thinks  to  frame, 
Or,  for  the  laurel,  he  may  gain  a  scorn; 
For  a  good  poet's  made  as  well  as  born. 

From  gentle  Shakespeare  we  have  the  profound  answer  {Winter  ^s  Tale,  IV,  iv,  89) : 

Yet  nature  is  made  better  by  no  mean 
But  nature  makes  that  mean;  so  over  that  art 
Which  you  say  adds  to  nature,  is  an  art 
That    nature    makes. 

Bacon  says  in  his  essay  "Of  Beauty":  "A  painter  may  make  a  better  face  than  ever 
was;  but  he  must  do  it  by  a  kind  of  fehcity     .....     and  not  by  rule". 

^  Smith,  ii,  154. 

^Ib.,  25. 


88  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

manner  of  analysis  of  the  kinds  of  poetry  on  the  basis  of  nature  of  sub- 
ject-matter treated,  it  is  evident  that  he  did  not  regard  the  function  of 
poetry  as  primarily  that  of  satisfying  artistic  needs  and  ideals.  Al- 
though he  is  much  occupied  with  ornament  and  solicitously  enjoins 
decorum  of  style,  he  places  content  first,  with  its  didactic,  moral,  or 
emotional  purposes  and  influences  and  in  general  its  bearings  with 
reference  to  human  life  and  conduct.  He  is  earnestly  desirous  by  means 
of  his  "whole  reccit  of  poetry"  of  contributing  toward  the  formal  per- 
fection of  courtly  making,  but  as  a  "gentleman  of  the  Court"  he  would 
not  have  rules  and  receipts  made  obtrusive  in  poetic  composition.  The 
courtly  maker,  though  he  must  attend  to  the  more  formal  part  of  poetry, 
the  technic,  must  affect  to  neglect  it,  as  Lord  Byron  did.  His  poetry 
should  be  elegant  like  his  manners,  but  Hkewise  all  must  be  done  with 
seeming  ease  and  offhand  freedom  and  without  sign  of  slavish  adherence 
to  rule.  Art  should  be  natural  and  unaffected,  for  than  the  obtrusion  of 
labored  art  "nothing  can  be  more  irksome  or  ridiculous."  Let  the  poet 
then  put  his  faith  first  in  natural  instinct  and  inspiration,  trust  first  in 
nature  and  thereto  adapt  his  form,  for  form  must  not  only  seem  natural, 
it  must  be  genuinely  based  upon  the  spirit  and  truth  of  nature. 

Daniel,  like  Sidney,  is  keenly  alive  to  the  baneful  influence  of  the 
narrow-minded  \dew  that,  limiting  itself  to  external  aspects,  conceives 
.  poetry  merely  as  a  matter  of  outward  form.  "  It  is  matter  that  satisfies 
the  judicial,"  he  asserts  in  refutation  of  Campion's  attitude, 
and  "all  these  pretended  proportions  of  words,  howsoever  placed,  can  be 
but  words,^°  and  peradventure  serve  but  to  embroil  our  understanding"; 
seeking  to  please  "an  exterior  sense"  we  only  "enthrall  our  judgment." 
We  should  not  in  servile  bUndness  imitate  the  ancients,  whom  "we 
admire not   for  their  smooth-gliding  words,  nor  their  measures, 

'"   Cp.  Bacon:  "Substance  of  matter  is  better  than  beauty  of  words"  (Adv.  Learn- 
ing, Bk.  I,  iv,  5).     And  Juliet  to  Romeo  (II,  vi,  30): 

Conceit,  more  rich  in  matter  than  in  words, 
Brags  of  his  substance,  not  of  ornament. 

"More  matter  \vith  less  art",  says  the  Queen  to  Polonius  (Hamlet,  II,  ii,  95).     Cp. 
also  Shakespeare's  sonnet  xxxii: 

Reserve  them  for  their  love,  not  for  their  rime 

Theirs  for  their  style  I  '11  read,  his  for  his  love  — 
and  Ixxxv: 

I  think  good  thoughts,  whilst  others  write  good  words 

Then  others  for  the  breath  of  words  respect, 
Me  for  my  dumb  thoughts,  speaking  in  effect. 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  89 

but  for  their  inventions."  "Laborsome  curiosity" — of  the  Campion 
type  of  mind — he  continues  impatiently,  must  lay  affliction  "upon  our 

least  delights as  if  art  were  ordained  to  afflict  nature,  and  that  we 

could  not  go  but  in  fetters."     We  must  wrap  ourselves  "in  unnecessary 

intrications laboring  ever  to  seem  more  than  we  are,"  and  lay 

upon  ourselves  useless  burdens,  "because  we  would  not  appear  like 
other  men.  "^^  Here  Daniel,  in  the  spirit  of  Sidney,  seeks  to  expose|the 
fallacy  of  attempting  to  elevate  poetry  and  give  it  distinction  by  superfi- 
cial devices  of  form  and  manner  rather  than  by  superiority  of  intellectual 
and  spiritual  content,!  and  indeed,  evinces  in  his  consciously  rebellious 
attitude  an  independent,  democratic  spirit  toward  art  strikingly  similar 
to  that  shown,  two  centuries  later  by  Wordsworth. 

But  though  Daniel  insists  on  the  dominance  of  invention  and  con- 
tent, and  is  convinced  that  the  imposition  of  the  bonds  of  classical  forms 
upon  a  language  to  which  they  are  not  adapted  would  be  highly  perni- 
cious, yet  he  deems  that  forms  themselves  do  not  necessarily  clog  the 
spirit  in  the  process  of  poetical  expression.  Rather  there  may  be  a  happy 
relation  whereby  the  form  may  afford  added  inspiration.  The  "multi- 
plicity of  rimes used  by  many  in  sonnets,"  with  some,  "far  from 

hindering  their  inventions hath  begot  conceit  beyond  expectation 

for  sure  in  an  eminent  spirit,  whom  nature  hath  fitted  for  that 

mystery,  rime  is  no  impediment  to  his  conceit,  but  rather  gives  him  wings 
to  mount,  and  carries  him  not  out  of  his  course,  but  as  it  were  beyond  his 
power  to  a  far  happier  flight."  It  comports  with  nature  that  the  "un- 
formed chaos"  of  the  imagination  should  by  the  "divine  power  of  the 

spirit be  wrought  into  an  orb  of  order  and  form,"^^  thus  giving 

definite  power  to  the  measureless  passions  of  men. 

Thus  man  in  his  art  is  putting  himself  in  harmony  with  nature  when 
he  gives  to  his  imaginative  poetic  creations  suitable  limits  and  forms. 
But  forms  must  not  be  imposed  superficially  or  allowed  to  usurp  the  more 
essential  powers  and  functions  of  which  they  are  but  external  representa- 
tions. Daniel  is  so  deeply  interested  in  this  matter  that  he  enters  into 
its  social  and  political  significance.  The  welfare  and  stability  of  society, 
he  maintains,  depend  not  upon  the  outward  garnish  of  customs  and 
conventions,  but  upon  inherent  qualities  of  virtue  and  intelligence.  He 
places  action  above  speech,  "substance  of  wit"  above  "eloquence  and 
gay  words";  it  is  ^^ mer curium  in  pectore not  in  lingua'^  that  is 

^'  Defense  of  Rime,  Smith,  ii,  364,  365. 
32/6.,     365,     366. 


90  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

vital.^'  "The  most  judicial  and  worthy  spirits  of  this  land, "  he  declares, 
will  not  be  content  "  to  rest  upon  the  outside  of  words,  and  be  entertained 
with  sound;  seeing  that  both  number,  measure,  and  rime  is  but  as  the 
ground  or  seat,  whereupon  is  raised  the  work  that  commends  it. "  The 
spirit  and  thought  are  more  than  the  raiment.  "  It  is  not  the  observing 
of  trochaics  nor  their  iambics  that  will  make  our  writings  aught  the 

wiser.     All  their  poesy is  nothing,  unless  we  bring  the  discerning 

light  of  conceit  with  us  to  apply  it  to  use.  "^'  Not  blind  imitation,  but 
the  artist's  feeling  and  judgment  with  reference  to  the  spirit  and  thought 
of  a  piece  of  art,  must  determine  the  outward  expression.  No  one  form, 
not  even  rime,  should  tyrannize  over  a  poet's  utterance,  and  Daniel 
declares  himself  free  to  "  serve  in  any  other  state  of  invention,  with  what 
weapon  of  utterance  I  will:  and  so  it  make  good  my  mind,  I  care  not. 
For  I  see  judgment  and  discretion  (with  whatsoever  is  worthy)  carry 
their  own  ornaments,  and  are  graced  with  their  own  beauties;  be  they 
appareled  in  what  fashion  they  will. "^^  Poetry  will  not  profit  by  "other 
clothes,"  by  putting  "off  these  fetters  to  receive  others,"  but  rather  by 
having  the  "music  of  our  times"  set  "to  a  higher  note  of  judgment  and 
discretion. "^^  The  "tyrannical  rudes  of  idle  rhetoric"  should  ever 
give  way  to  the  force  that  sways  the  "affections  of  men."^^  And  in 
this  force  and  in  the  thought  substance,  rather  than  in  the  outward  form, 
Daniel  believes,  lies  mainly  the  power  and  significance  of  poetry. 

Authority  of  powerful  censure  may 
Prejudicate  the  form  wherein  we  mold 
This  matter  of  our  spirit,  but  if  it  pay 

^^  lb.,  371-372.  This  Wordsworth-like  attitude  of  Daniel  and  others  of  his  time 
stands  in  contrast  to  that  of  the  age  of  Pope  with  its  canon  of  "nature  methodized",- 

True  wit  is  nature  to  advantage  dressed; 

What  oft  was  thought,  but  ne'er  so  well  expressed. 

3^/6.,    367,    381. 

'^  Ded.  Civil  Wars,  Works,  ii,  8.  In  connection  with  the  theory  held  by  Sidney 
and  Daniel  that  form  is  not  the  determining  element  of  poetry,  it  may  be  noted  that 
Sidney's  Arcadia  was  sometimes  spoken  of  as  a  poem — for  instance,  by  Milton — and 
that  Drayton  found  that  Daniel's  "manner  better  fitted  prose"  {Epistle  to  Reynolds). 

36  Smith,    ii,    363. 

"  Cp.  Marston:  "Know  rules  of  art  were  shaped  to  pleasure,  not  pleasure  to  your 
rules"  (Introd.  What  You  Will,  1607).  Bacon  declares  that  one  of  the  prime  errors 
of  learning  "is  the  over-ready  and  peremptory  reduction  of  knowledge  into  arts  and 
methods"   (Adv.  Learning,   Bk.   I,  V,  4). 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  91 

The  ear  with  substance,  we  have  what  we  would, 
For  that  is  all  which  must  our  credit  hold.^** 

Although  the  critics  of  this  period,  for  the  most  part  working  separate- 
ly and  under  various  influences,  lack  the  homogeneity  of  thought  of  a 
more  co-operative  body  of  writers,  yet  their  work  attains  something  of 
unity  from  the  earnest  desire  of  all  to  apply  to  existent  conditions  the 
best  critical  principles  for  the  advancement  of  English  poetry.  The 
treatises  of  Webbe — an  admirer  of  Euphuism — and  Campion,  both  act- 
uated mainly  by  the  desire  to  introduce  the  remedy  of  classical  metres, 
are  largely  devoid  of  a  conception  of  poetry  that  goes  beyond  its  external 
form.  But  in  such  a  limited  and  superficial  view,  more  thoughtful  critics 
find,  lies  a  reason  for  the  pernicious  activity  of  the  very  rimesters  and 
poet-apes  whom  Webbe  and  Campion,  by  instituting  more  difficult 
metres  and  forms,  would  if  possible  silence.  Such  critics  as  Sidney  and 
Spenser — notwithstanding  their  earlier  dabbling  in  classical  forms,  soon 
discredited  by  their  own  work  of  a  different  order — and  Daniel,  therefore 
set  themselves  most  earnestly  against  conceptions  of  poetry  that  tended 
to  make  dominant  any  merely  external  and  imitable  aspect  of  the  art, 
classical,  euphuistic,  or  otherwise;  and  their  work  and  influence  enabled 
romanticism  to  run  a  course  of  development  that  otherwise  might  have 
been  seriously  impeded  and  with  great  loss  to  our  poetical  treasury. 
Moreover,  there  is  reflected  in  Puttenham,  Sidney,  and  others  the  courtly 
tradition  that  discredits  any  obtrusion  or  labored  ostentation  of  art,  for 
this  is  deemed  tedious  and  ridiculous.  Art  should  be  used  "to  hide 
art,"  which  should  never  be  " undiscreetly  bewrayed."  Shakespeare's 
"a.  thing  slip'd  idly  from  me"  is  the  ideal,  rather  than  Ben  Jonson's 
"living  line"  by  the  inelegant  process  of  "sweat." 

Practical  reasons  then  and  social  traditions,  perhaps  even  rehgious 
ideals,  as  well  as  their  more  lofty  idealization  of  poetry,  impel  these 
critics  to  emphasize  and  exalt  the  intangible  and  more  unattainable 
elements  of  the  art.  They  would  of  course  have  men  of  poetic  spirit  and 
genius  give  necessary  heed  to  form — others  they  would  have  desist 
altogether.  But  deeming  that  the  salvation  of  poetry  must  rest  first  of 
all  upon  a  recognition  of  its  essentially  spiritual  nature,  they  exalt  nature 
above  artifice,  genius  and  inspiration — "inward  touch" — above  rule  and 
studious  imitation,  matter  above  form.  In  accordance  with  their  con- 
ception of  the  lofty  nature  and  function  of  poetry,  they  insist  that  it 
must  not  be  made  a  matter  of  school  art,  that  its  merits  must  not  be 

^  "To  the  Reader",   Works,  i,    14. 


92  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

measured  chiefly  by  ornaments,  words,  rimes,  or  metres;  but  rather  by 
its  imaginative  force,  its  spiritual  nobiUty,  and  its  larger  significance 
with  relation  to  human  life.  Even  such  critics  as  Gascoigne,  King 
James,  and  Puttenham,  though  dealing  largely  with  formal  aspects  of 
the  art,  avow  that  these  must  be  regarded  as  essentially  subordinate  to 
the  more  fundamental  intellectual  and  spiritual  elements.  And  in  gen- 
eral the  critics  unite  in  asserting  the  supremacy  of  these  elements  and  the 
freedom  of  genius,  agreeing  with  "M.  Sidney  and  all  the  learneder 
sort"  in  pronouncing  poetry  "a  gift  and  not  an  art,"^*  and  thereby 
with  M.  Spenser  that  "soul  is  form." 

III.  Poetry  as  Fiction — Allegory,  Imitation 

As  the  soul  or  content  of  poetry  was  deemed  a  matter  of  prime  im- 
portance by  most  Elizabethan  critics,  naturally  much  attention  was 
given  to  the  nature  and  character  of  this  poetic  content.  Poetry  might 
be  made  up  of  pure  fact  or  history — though  few  critics  agreed  to  this;  or 
it  might  be  pure  fable;  or  it  might  be  a  mixture  of  fact  and  fable.  In 
general,  it  was  agreed  that  poetry  should  possess  a  groundwork  of  fiction 
of  some  kind;  and  the  chief  problem  was  to  decide  what  the  nature  of 
this  fiction  should  be  and  to  justify  its  use.  The  fiction  of  verisimilitude 
to  everyday  life  received  small  attention.  Allegorical  fiction  was  ex- 
pounded and  praised  by  critics  of  scholastic  minds  and  training  whose 
concrete  interest  lay  chiefly  in  an  interpretation  of  the  poetry  of  the  past. 
The  fiction  of  romance  or  idealism,  supported  mainly  by  those  critics  who 
were  most  intimately  in  touch  with  creative  literary  activity,  receives  by 
far  the  ablest  and  most  interesting  exposition  and  evokes  the  most 
significant  part  of  the  critical  work  of  its  chief  exponent,  Sir  Philip 
Sidney. 

The  allegorical  conception  of  poetry  is  represented  early  in  the 
period  by  Arthur  Golding,  who  in  the  preface  to  his  translation  of  Ovid 
(1567)  lays  stress  upon  the  idea  that  the  work  of  his  author,  "purporting 
outwardly  most  pleasant  and  delectable  histories,  and  fraughted  in- 
wardly with  most  pithy  instructions  and  wholesome  examples,"  con- 
tains "dark  and  secret  mysteries"  with  "most  exquisite  cunning  and 
deep  knowledge." 

The  readers  therefore  earnestly  admonisht  are  to  be 
To  seek  a  further  meaning  than  the  letter  gives  to  see. 

'» Harington,  Pref.  Orlando  Furioso,  Smith,  ii,  197. 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  93 

Taking  the  attitude  of  translator  rather  than  of  creator,  Golding  em- 
phasizes the  importance  of  interpretation,  placing  the  ethical  responsi- 
bility largely  upon  the  interpretative  attitude  of  the  reader;  and,  not 
possessing  the  conception  of  creative  imitation  or  fiction  later  promul- 
gated by  Sidney,  he  limits  himself  to  reiterated  admonitions  to  his 
readers  for  the  most  edifying  allegorical  interpretations. 

Then  take  these  works  as  fragrant  flowers  most  full  of 

pleasant  juice 
The  which  the  bee  conveying  home  may  put  to  wholesome 

use: 
And  which  the  spider  sucking  on  to  poison  may  convert.^ 

Stephen  Hawes,  though  writing  earlier  than  Golding,  in  a  sense 
shows  a  step  in  advance  by  his  application  of  the  idea  of  allegory  to 
English  poetry  in  the  spirit  of  a  creative  artist  consciously  dealing  with 
fiction.  Transferring  allegory  from  its  former  application  chiefly  to 
nature,  the  Scriptures,  and  classical  mythology,  he  consciously  employs 
it  and  advocates  it  as  a  method  of  poetic  fiction  or  romance.  In  his 
Pastime  of  Pleasure^  he  will  enticingly  veil  his  "matter  with  a  misty 
smoke." 

Yet  as  I  may  I  shall  blow  out  a  fume. 
To  hide  my  mind  underneath  a  fable, 
By  covert  colors  well  and  probable. 

And  Hawes  complains  because  contemporary  poets  do  not  do  likewise: 

But  many  a  one  is  right  well  expert 
In  this  cunning,  but  upon  authority. 
They  feign  no  fables  pleasant  and  covert. 
But  spend  their  time  in  vainful  vanity, 
Making  ballads  of  fervent  amity. 
As  gests  and  trifles  without  fruitfulness; 
Thus  all  in  vain  they  spend  their  business. 

He  further  recommends  and  extols  this  method  of  feigning  pleasant  and 

'Thomas  Wilson's  Art  of  Rhetoric  (1553)  taught  that  "undoubtedly  there  is  no 
one  tale  among  all  the  poets,  but  under  the  same  is  comprehended  something  that 
pertaineth  either  to  the  amendment  of  manners,  to  the  knowledge  of  truth,  to  the  setting 
forth  of  nature's  work,  or  else  to  the  understanding  of  some  notable  thing  done  .  . 
.  .  .  The  poets  were  wise  men  and  wished  in  heart  the  redress  of  things  "  (Smith, 
i,  xxiv). 

*  Percy    Soc,    vol.    xviii. 


94  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

profitable  fables,  and  expresses  wonder,  as  did  Shakespeare  later,  at  the 
powers  of  the  imagination  in  such  work: 

By  imagination 
To  draw  a  matter  full  facundious. 
Full  marvelous  is  the  operation. 
To  make  of  nought,  reason  sententious, 
Cloaking  a  truth  with  color  tenebrous; 
For  often  a  fair  feigned  fable 
A   truth   appeareth   greatly  profitable.^ 

In  the  theory  of  Hawes,  in  short,  is  to  be  found  an  enthusiastic  advocacy 
of  the  application  of  allegory  to  English  poetry  as  a  method  of  poetic 
fiction  with  a  purpose. 

Allegory — in  addition  to  its  use  in  homiletics  and  in  the  interpreta- 
tion of  the  poetry  of  the  ancients — having  penetrated  the  realm  of 
modern  fiction,  and  allegorical  fiction  having  been  consciously  promulgated 
as  a  desirable  method  to  be  employed  in  English  poetry,  it  became  less 
difficult  for  Elizabethan  men  of  letters,  accustomed  as  they  were  to 
allegorical  interpretation,  to  accept  fiction  as  a  basis  of  poetry,  especially 
as  there  was  the  authority  of  Aristotle  that  fiction  in  the  aspect  of  ideal 
imitation  is  the  test  of  poetry.^  Aristotle,  of  course,  recognized  fiction 
in  the  poetry  of  his  contemporaries.  But  with  the  Elizabethans  one  of 
the  chief  stumbling  blocks  in  the  way  of  an  acceptance  of  fiction  in  poetry 
was  that  they  conventionally  regarded  classical  poetry  as  history  or 
allegorv.  With  the  more  thoughtful,  however,  notably  with  Sidney, 
this  view,  under  the  authority  of  Aristotle  and  under  the  need  of 
justifying  contemporary,  poetry  gives  way  to  a  frank  recognition  and 
acceptance  of  fiction  in  both  ancient  and  contemporary  poetry  as  an 
essential  element. 

Fiction  as  imitation  is  supported  in  the  remarks  of  Ascham.  Dis- 
tinguishing two  kinds  of  imitation,  one  of  which  is  "to  follow  .  .  . 
.  .  the  best  authors,"  he  speaks  of  the  other  as  "a  fair  lively  painted 
picture  of  the  life  of  every  degree  of  man.  "^     Of  this  latter  kind  he  says 

3  Cp.    Bunyan    ("Author's   Apology",    Pilgrim's   Progress): 

Art  thou  for  something  rare  and  profitable? 

Or  would 'st  thou  see  a  truth  within  a  fable? 

Then    read   my    fancies. 
*   Cf.   Butcher's  transl.   Poetics,  p.   142. 

'  Cambridge  History,  iii,  332.  Saintsbury  observes  that  Ascham  here  intends 
"the  original  mimesis  of  Aristotle". 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  95 

further:  "Imitation  is  a  faculty  to  express  lively  and  perfectly  that 
example  which  ye  go  about  to  follow.  And  of  itself  it  is  large  and  wide: 
for  all  the  works  of  nature  in  a  manner  be  examples  for  art  to  follow.  "^ 
Here,  giving  broad  scope  to  imitation,  Ascham  accepts  it  as  fiction, 
though  his  conception,  possibly  because  of  his  "horror  of  romance," 
fails  to  emphasize  the  purely  imaginative  aspect  of  the  ideal  imitation  so 
enthusiastically  expounded  later  by  Sidney. 

Lodge  also  seems  to  lack  Sidney's  conception,  though  he  "must 
confess  with  Aristotle  that  men  are  greatly  delighted  with  imitation."'' 
His  mind  like  that  of  Golding  is  bent  upon  the  allegorical  interpretation 
of  poetry  as  applied  to  the  ancient  classics,  and  upon  this  he  stands  as 
one  of  the  chief  points  of  his  refutation  of  Gosson.  The  latter,  still 
forgetting  his  instruction  at  the  university  as  to  the  interpretation  of 
classical  poetry,  makes  more  clear  in  his  Apology  of  the  School  of  Abuse 
than  in  his  original  attack  his  position  toward  attempts  to  employ 
allegorical  fiction  in  contemporary  poetry,  declaring  that  "if  they  do 
feign  these  frantic  conceits  to  resemble  somewhat  else  that  they  imagine, 
by  speaking  of  one  thing  and  thinking  another,  they  are  dissemblers.  "^ 
Lodge,  with  Gosson's  earlier  and  less  definite  remarks  in  mind,  fixes  his 
attention  upon  ancient  rather  than  modern  poetry,  and  summoning  the 
resources  of  his  scholastic  learning  in  support  of  the  allegorical  tradition 
taught  at  the  university,  he  exposes  Gosson,  "a  man  of  the  letter,"  in 
his  unaccountable  ignorance  of  poetic  interpretation,  as  absurdly  at 
variance  with  "our  sagest  doctors"  in  taking  it  upon  himself  to  "dis- 
praise poetry"  when  he  knows  "not  what  it  means. "  Indeed,  in  view  of 
the  usual  allegorical  interpretation  of  Virgil,^  Ovid,  and  others,  which 
Gosson  ought  to  have  known.  Lodge  can  hardly  believe  that  he  is  in 
earnest  in  an  attitude  toward  poetry  that  makes  frivolous  the  teachings 
of  the  masters  at  the  university  and  shipwrecks  the  labors  of  the  stu- 
dents.i''  In  further  defense  of  allegorical  fiction.  Lodge  cites  numerous 
authorities,  classical  and  other — among  them  Lactantius,  in  quoting 
whom  he  affords  an  interesting  instance  of  the  transference  of  allegori- 
cal  interpretation   from   Scripture   to   poetry,    "for   if,  sayeth  he,  we 

«  Schoolmaskr,  Smith,  i,  5.  Cp.  Hamlet  (III,  ii,  24) :  "To  hold,  as  'twere,  the  mirror 
up  to  nature". 

^  Smith,   i,    83. 

8  Arber,    ed.,  p.    68. 

'  Cp.  Stanyhurst  (Smith,  i,  136):  "What  deep  and  rare  points  of  hidden  secrets 
Virgil  hath  sealed  up  in  his  twelve  books!" 

1°  Smith,    i,    66. 


y 


96  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

examine  the  Scriptures  literally,  nothing  will  seem  more  false,  and 
if  we  weigh  poets'  words  and  not  their  meaning,  our  learning  in  them 
will  be  very  mean. "" 

The  allegorical  interpretation  as  used  by  Lodge  in  defense  of  poetic 
fiction,  is  given  comparatively  slight  attention  by  Sidney.  Sir  Philip 
was  evidently  not  strongly  of  the  allegorical  turn  of  mind  and  doubtless 
was  repelled  by  the  fantastic  absurdities  of  over-elaborate  interpreta- 
tions. Then,  too,  his  attention  was  directed  to  contemporary  and 
future  creative  art  rather  than  to  the  interpretation  of  the  poetry  of  the 
ancients.  Moreover,  he  was  not  interested  in  advocating  the  application 
of  a  method  of  poetry  which  he  doubtless  deemed  inadequate  for  the 
realization  of  the  high  possibilities  of  the  art  as  he  conceived  it.  Allegory 
would  impose  upon  poetry  something  of  the  limitation  the  freedom  from 
which  gives  poetry  its  chief  superiority  over  other  subjects.  The  poet 
should  possess  the  liberty  by  which  he  "bringeth  his  own  stuff,  and  doth 
not  learn  a  conceit  out  of  a  matter  but  maketh  matter  for  a  conceit." 
Though  not  supporting  allegory  as  an  essential  of  poetry,  Sidney  in  his 
advocacy  of  fiction  recommends  it  in  certain  applications.     He  conjures 

his  reader,  for  instance,  "  to  believe  with  Clauserus that 

it  pleaseth  the  heavenly  Deity,  by  Hesiod  and  Homer,  under  the  veil  of 
fables,  to  give  us  all  knowledge,"  and  to  believe  with  himself,  "that 
there  are  many  mysteries  contained  in  poetry,  which  of  purpose  were 
written  darkly,  lest  by  profane  wits  it  should  be  abused.  "^^  Though 
the  dark  or  allegorical  way  of  writing  might  help  to  save  poetry  from  the 
abuse  of  rude  versifiers,  an  easy  form  of  allegory  could  be  a  blessing  to 
the  popular  reader,  for  "the  poet  is  indeed  the  right  popular  philosopher, 
whereof  Esop's  tales  give  good  proof:  whose  pretty  allegories,  stealing 
under  the  formal  tales  of  beasts,  make  many  more  beastly  than  beasts, 
begin  to  hear  the  sound  of  virtue  from  these  dumb  speakers  ";^^  and  the 
"pastoral  poem" — Spenser  had  written    one — "sometimes,  under  the 

"  lb.,  73.  Bunyan,  one  hundred  years  after  Lodge  wrote,  when  puritanical 
objection  to  fiction  had  grown  stronger,  in  his  "Author's  Apology"  to  Pilgrim's 
Progress  vigorously  defends  his  allegorical  fiction  on  the  ground  of  its  analogy  to 
scriptural  method,  declaring  that  "God's  laws"  were  "held  forth  by  types,  shadows, 

and  metaphors",  that  "Holy  Writ is  everywhere  so  full  of     .     .     .     . 

.  dark  figures,  allegories,"  that  "the  prophets  used  much  by  metaphors  to  set 
forth  truth",  and  that  though  his  own  "dark  and  cloudy  words"  are  "feigned", 
"they  do  but  hold  the  truth,  as  cabinets  inclose  the  gold". 

'^Apology,   Smith,   i,   180,   206. 

'' 76.,  167.    Cp.  Spenser's  adoption  of  the  method  in  his  Mother  Hubberd's  Tale. 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  97 

pretty  tales  of  wolves  and  sheep,  can  include  the  whole  considerations  of 
wrong  doings  and  patience. "" 

While  Sidney  regards  allegory  in  some  points  as  a  desirable  feature  of 
poetry,  he  finds  the  essential  element  of  the  art  to  be  fiction.  Impatient 
at  the  lingering  middle  age  credulity  that  persists  in  regarding  the  story 
or  fable  as  history,  and  at  the  confusion  and  erroneous  criticism  arising 
from  this  and  from  the  old  practice  of  mingling  fact  and  fiction  or  of 
presenting  fiction  as  fact,  he  labors  earnestly  to  set  forth  the  high  nature 
and  significance  of  pure  fiction  and  to  establish  it  as  the  basis  and  test  of 
poetry.  He  feels  that  for  right  conceptions  of  poetic  art  and  for  best 
results,  fiction  must  be  frankly  accepted  as  such  and  nothing  else, — "  If 
then  a  man  can  arrive  at  that  child's  age  to  know  that  the  poets'  persons 
and  doings  are  but  pictures  what  should  be,  and  not  stories  what  have 
been,^^  they  will  never  give  the  He  to  things  not  affirmatively  but  allegor- 
ically  written. "  The  real  poet  does  not  affirm  his  fiction  to  be  a  matter 
of  history;  he  "never  maketh  any  circles  about  your  imagination,  to 
conjure  you  to  believe  for  true  what  he  writes. "  If  men  will  but  learn  to 
look  "for  fiction,  they  shall  use  the  narration  but  as  an  imaginative 
groundplot  of  a  profitable  invention.  "^^ 

Sidney  goes  so  far  as  to  make  fiction  rather  than  verse  the  test  of 
poetry  and  to  imply  that  any  significant  work  of  the  imagination  whether 

'*Ib.,  175. 

"  "Every  tale  was,  in  the  Middle  Ages,  regarded  as  a  historic  example  of  moral 
truth"  (Courthope,  Hist.  Eng.  Poetry,  i,  286).  The  tradition  seems  to  have  persisted 
in  Sidney's  day.  Other  writers  of  the  time,  especially  the  romantic  dramatists,  feel 
constrained  to  plead  for  the  recognition  and  exercise  of  that  third  part  of  "man's 
understanding"  which  Bacon  finds  represented  in  poetry,  namely,  the  imagination. 
Dekker,  for  instance,  in  the  prologue  to  Old  Fortunatus  places  stress  on  the 
imaginative  powers  demanded  of  the  spectators;  and  Heywood,  feeling  the  limitations 
of  his  art,  appeals  to  his  audience,  in  the  prologue  of  A  Woman  Killed  with  Kindness, 
to  aid  by  using  their  imagination.  The  most  notable  instance  of  this  sort  of  appeal, 
of  course,  is  in  the  chorus  parts  of  Shakespeare 's  Henry  the  Fifth.  Attempts  to  stimu- 
late and  aid  the  imagination  are  also  made  in  Pericles  and  Winter's  Tale.  Shakes- 
peare, too,  with  all  his  wealth  of  diction,  complains  in  his  sonnets  and  plays  of  the  in- 
adequacy of  language  to  serve  the  powers  of  imagination.  Sidney,  after  his  noble 
plea  for  freedom  of  imagination  in  poetry,  singularly  enough  decries  this  same  freedom 
in  dramatic  art,  though  doubtless  he  deemed  the  "gross  absurdities"  of  romantic 
drama  neither  "what  could  be"  nor  "what  should  be".  Interesting  remarks  on 
imaginative  freedom  and  observance  of  the  unities  may  be  found  in  L.  S.  Friedland's 
"The  Dramatic  Unities  in  England"  {Journal  of  Engl,  and  Germ.  Philol.,  1911). 

"  Smith,     i,     185. 


98  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

in  prose  or  in  verse  is  poetry.'^  This  essence  of  poetry,  fiction,  has  been 
drawn  upon  by  historians  and  philosophers,  adding  Ufe  and  force  to  their 
works.  Herodotus  "and  all  the  rest  that  followed  him  either  stole  or 
usurped  of  poetry  their  passionate  describing  of  passions,  the  many 
particularities  of  battles,  which  no  man  could  aflfirm,  or,  if  that  be  denied 
me,  long  orations  put  in  the  mouths  of  great  kings  and  captains,  which  it 
is  certain  they  never  pronounced. "  It  is  likewise  with  Plato,  for  though 
the  body  of  his  work  is  philosophy,  "  the  skin  as  it  were  and  beauty  de- 
pended most  of  poetry:  for  all  standeth  upon  dialogues,  wherein  he 
feigneth  many  honest  burgesses  of  Athens  to  speak  of  such  matters,  that, 
if  they  had  been  set  on  the  rack,  they  would  never  have  confessed  them.  "^^ 
Sidney  further  supports  and  illustrates  his  idea  of  fiction  as  the  essential 
element  of  poetry  by  citing  the  "divine  narrations"  of  Jesus,  such  as 
that  of  the  prodigal  son,  "  which  by  the  learned  divines  are  thought  not 
to  be  historical  acts,  but  instructing  parables.  "^^  David's  psalms  also 
are  to  be  considered  "a  divine  poem,"  "principally"  because  of  the 
manner  of  "his  handling  his  prophecy,  which  is  merely  poetical.     For 

what  else  is his  notable  prosopopoeias,  when  he  maketh 

you,  as  it  were,  see  God  coming  in  his  majesty;  his  telling  of  the  beasts' 

"  CI.  Jusserand,  Lit.  Hist.,  ii,  366.  Cp.  Ben  Jonson's  saying  to  Drummond  (Conv., 
Works,  iii,  472),  "That  he  thought  not  Bartas  a  poet,  but  a  verser,  because  he  wrote 
not  fiction";  and  also  his  declaration  in  the  Discoveries  (Schelling,  p.  73),  "A  poet,  poeta, 

is a  maker,   or   feigner;  his  art,   an  art  of  imitation  or  feigning. 

.  .  .  .  Hence  he  is  called  a  poet,  not  he  which  writeth  in  measure  only,  but 
that  feigneth  and  formeth  a  fable,  and  writes  things  Hke  truth;  for  the  fable  and 
fiction  is,  as  it  were,  the  form  and  soul  of  any  poetical  work  or  poem".  Bacon  also 
makes  fiction  rather  than  verse  the  test  of  poetry.  "Poesy",  he  declares,  "is  taken 
in  two  senses;  in  respect  of  words  and  matter.  In  the  first  sense  it  is  but  a  character 
of  speech;  for  verse  is  only  a  kind  of  style  and  a  certain  form  of  elocution,  and  has 
nothing  to  do  with  the  matter;  for  both  true  history  may  be  written  in  verse  and 
feigned  history  in  prose"  —  but  "under  the  name  of  poesy,  I  treat  only  of  feigned 
history"  (De  Augmentis,  Bk.  II,  chap.  xiii).  This,  of  course,  is  in  accordance  with 
his  threefold  division  of  human  learning  with  "reference  to  the  three  parts  of  man's 

understanding history   to   his   memory,    poesy   to   his   imagination, 

and  philosophy  to  his  reasoning"  {Adv.  Learning,  Bk.  II,  I,  1). 

'8  Smith,  i,  152,  153.  Cp.,  "A  poet,  in  painting  forth  the  effects,  the  motions,  the 
whisperings  of  the  people,  which  though  in  disputation  one  might  say  were  true,  yet 
who  will  mark  them  well  shall  find  them  taste  or  a  poetical  vein,  and  in  that  kind  are 
gallantly  to  be  marked:  for  though  perchance  they  were  not  so,  yet  it  is  enough  they 
might  be  so"  (Sidney — letter  to  his  brother  Robert  (1580);  Smith,  i,  384). 

19/6.,    167. 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  99 

joyfulness,  and  hills  leaping,  but  a  heavenly  poesy?  "^^  That  is  to  say, 
it  is  poetry  by  virtue  of  its  being  a  sort  of  divine  fiction — and  it  is 
of  interest  to  note  that  whereas  Lodge  transfers  the  application  of 
allegory  from  Scripture  to  poetry,  Sidney  uses  Scripture  in  support  of 
poetry  as  fiction  or  ideal  imitation. 

Sidney's  conception  of  the  fiction  or  ideal  imitation  that  constitutes 
poetry  is  further  developed  in  his  discussion  of  the  superiority  of  poetry 
over  history  and  philosophy.  The  reason  why  poetry  is  superior  to 
history  lies  in  its  greater  capability  of  furnishing  ideals  and  examples  that 
are  perfect.  History  is  very  inadequate  in  this  respect, — "the  historian 
bound  to  tell  things  as  things  were,  cannot  be  liberal  (without  he  will  be 
poetical)  of  a  perfect  pattern.  "^^  Moreover,  the  historian's  pattern  or 
example,  often  representing  an  exception  to  general  verity,  may  be  mis- 
leading or  comparatively  valueless.  He  "is  so  tied,  not  to  what  should 
be  but  to  what  is,  to  the  particular  truth  of  things  and  not  to  the  general 
reason  of  things,  that  his  example  drav/eth  no  necessary  consequence,  and 
therefore  a  less  fruitful  doctrine.  "^^  The  fiction  of  the  poet  is  more 
philosophically  true  to  human  nature,  because  it  deals  "with  the  univer- 
sal consideration."  Not  hampered  by  particular  facts,  the  poet  "is  to 
frame  his  example  to  that  which  is  most  reasonable.  "^^  He  "calleth 
the  sweet  muses  to  inspire  into  him  a  good  invention;  in  troth,  not  labor- 
ing to  tell  you  what  is,  or  is  not,  but  what  should  or  should  not  be.  "^'^ 

■Ub.,   155. 

^'  lb.,  168.  The  use  of  poetry,  or  "feigned  history",  says  Bacon,  "hath  been  to 
give  some  shadow  of  satisfaction  to  the  mind  of  man  in  those  points  wherein  the  nature 
of  things  doth  deny  it,  the  world  being  in  proportion  inferior  to  the  soul"  {Adv.  Learn- 
ing, Bk.  II,  iv,  1).     The  Poet  in  Timon  of  Athens  (I,  i,  37)  says  of  the  Painter's  work: 

It    tutors    nature;    artificial    strife 
Lives  in  these  touches,  hvelier  than  life. 
^Ib.,    164. 

«  lb.,  167,  168.     Cp.  The  Poet  in  Timon  of  Athens  (I,  i,  45): 

My    free    drift 
Halts  not  particularly,   but   moves  itself 
In  a   wide  sea  of  wax. 

^*  lb.,  185.     Cp.  Aristotle  (Butcher,  p.  121):  "imitate  things  as  they  ought  to  be". 

Bacon  speaks  of  poetry  as  "extremely  free  and  licensed;  and  therefore 

referred  to  the  imag'nation", — and  declares  that  "as  the  sensible  world  is  inferior  in 
dignity  to  the  rational  soul,  poesy  seems  to  bestow  upon  human  nature  those  things 
which  history  denies  it;  and  to  satisfy  the  mind  with  the  shadow  of  things  when  the 
substance  cannot  be  obtained.  For  if  the  matter  be  attentively  considered,  a  sound 
argument  may  be  drawn  from  poesy,  to  show  that  there  is  agreeable  to  the  spirit  of 


100  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

The  poet,  however,  may  avail  himself  of  history  and  frame  what 

Spenser  calls  a  "  historical  fiction  " — for  "  whatsoever the 

historian  is  bound  to  recite,  that  may  the  poet make  his 

own;  beautifying  it  both  for  further  teaching,  and  more  delighting,  as  it 
pleaseth  him:  having  all  from  Dante  his  heaven  to  his  hell,  under  the 
authority  of  his  pen."  For  "use  and  learning"  the  poet's  feigned  ideal 
examples  are  superior  to  those  of  the  historian — "certainly  is  more 
doctrinal  the  feigned  example  of  Cyrus  in  Xenophon  than  the  true  Cyrus 
in  Justine,  and  the  feigned  Aeneas  in  Virgil  than  the  right  Aeneas  in 
Dares  Phrigius."    Xenophon,  indeed,  though  he  "writ  in  prose,"  "did 

imitate  so  excellently  as  to  give  us the  portraiture  of 

a  just  empire  under  the  name  of  Cyrus"  and  "made  therein  an  absolute 
heroical  poem."  A  poet,  in  short,  is  to  be  known  by  his  "feigning 
notable  images."^ 

By  virtue  of  this  feigning  of  notable  images  or  ideal  imitation,  poetry 
above  all  other  arts  furnishes  mankind  with  the  noblest  ideals  and  the 
most  perfect  models,  even  vying  with  or  transcending  nature.  All 
other  arts  have  nature  for  their  "principal  object"  and  suffer  limitations 
by  being  constrained  to  follow  her.  Only  the  poet  is  free,  and,  "  disdain- 
men  a  more  ample  greatness,  a  more  perfect  order  and  a  more  beautiful  variety  than 
it  can  anywhere  (since  the  Fall)  find  in  nature;  and  therefore,  since  the  acts  and  events 
which  are  the  subjects  of  real  history  are  not  of  sufficient  grandeur  to  satisfy  the  hu- 
man mind,  poesy  is  at  hand  to  feign  acts  more  heroical;  since  the  successes  and  issues 
of  actions  as  related  in  the  true  history  are  far  from  being  agreeable  to  the  merits  of 
virtue  and  vice,  poesy  corrects  it,  exhibiting  events  and  fortunes  as  according  to  merit 
and  the  law  of  providence"  {De  Augmeniis,  Bk.  II,  chap.  xiii.  Cp.  Adv.  Learning, 
Bk.  II,  iv,  1-2).  Sir  William  Alexander  (Anacrisis,  c.  1634)  thinks  "that  an  epic 
poem  should  consist  altogether  of  a  fiction;  that  the  poet  soaring  above  the  course 
of  nature,  making  the  beauty  of  virtue  to  invite,  and  the  horror  of  vice  to  affright 
the  beholders,  may  liberally  furnish  his  imaginary  man  with  all  the  qualities  requisite 
for  the  accomplishing  of  a  perfect  creature,  having  power  to  dispose  all  things  at  his 
own  pleasure".  He  deems  it  "more  agreeable  with  the  gravity  of  a  tragedy",  how- 
ever, that  it  be  grounded  upon  a  true  history,  where  the  greatness  of  a  known  person, 
urging  regard,  doth  work  more  powerfully  upon  the  affections."  Sidney  (Smith,  i, 
19i8)  declares  that  "tragedy  is  tied  to  the  laws  of  poesy,  and  not  of  history,  not  bound 
to  follow  the  story,  but  having  Hberty,  either  to  feign  a  quite  new  matter,  or  to  frame 
the  history  to  the  most  tragical  convenience".  Marston  (Pref.  Sophonisba — cp. 
Ben  Jonson  's  Sejanus,  etc.)  remarks,  "  Know  that  I  have  not  labored  to  relate  anything 
as  an  historian,  but  to  enlarge  everything  as  a  poet";  and  Dekker  {Lectori,  Whore  of 
Babylon)  says,  "Know  I  write  as  a  poet,  not  as  an  historian,  and  that  these  two  do  not 
live  under  one  law".     Cp.  Shakespeare's  practice. 

^  Smith,  i,    160,    168,    169.    ' 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  101 

ing  to  be  tied  to  any  such  subjection,  lifted  up  with  the  vigor  of  his  own 
invention,  doth  grow  in  effect  another  nature,  in  making  things  either 
better  than  nature  bringeth  forth,  or  quite  anew,  forms  such  as  never 

were  in  nature so  as  he  goeth  hand  in  hand  with  nature, 

not  inclosed  within  the  narrow  warrant  of  her  gifts,  but  freely  ranging 
only  within  the  zodiac  of  his  own  wit. "^^  A  godlike  creator,  "with  the 
force  of  a  divine  breath  he  bringeth  forth  things  far  surpassing  her 
doings. "  "Nature  never  set  forth  the  earth  in  so  rich  tapestry  as  divers 
poets  have  done,  neither  with  pleasant  rivers,  fruitful  trees,  sweet  smell- 
ing flowers,  nor  whatsoever  else  may  make  the  too  much  loved  earth 
more  lovely.  Her  world  is  brazen,  the  poets  only  deliver  a  golden". 
And  as  for  man,  nature  never  "  brought  forth  so  true  a  lover  as  Theagines, 
so  constant  a  friend  as  Pilades,  so  valiant  a  man  as  Orlando,  so  right  a 
prince  as  Xenophon's  Cyrus,  so  excellent  a  man  every  way  as  Virgil's 
Aeneas."  Nor  is  this  bodying  forth  of  idealized  conceptions  to  be 
"jestingly  conceived"  because  it  is  "in  imitation  or  fiction;  for  any 
understanding  knoweth  the  skill  of  the  artificer  standeth  in  that  Idea  or 
fore-conceit  of  the  work,  and  not  in  the  work  itself.  And  that  the  poet 
hath  that  Idea  is  manifest,  by  delivering  them  forth  in  such  excellency  as 
he   hath   imagined   them.  "-^ 

By  ideal  imitation  thus  to  bestow  upon  mankind  perfect  examples  of 
beauty  and  excellence  is  the  high  function  of  poets.  The  poets  who  imi- 
tated the  "inconceivable  excellencies  of  God"  were  the  chief  ones  "both  |,^-^ 
in  antiquity  and  excellency."  Such  were  David  and  Solomon  and 
others,  David  in  the  psalms  creating  a  "heavenly  poesy"  wherein  is 
depicted  "that  unspeakable  and  everlasting  beauty  to  be  seen  by  the 
eyes  of  the  mind,  only  cleared  by  faith. "  These  Sidney  puts  in  a  class 
by  themselves.  A  "second  kind"  comprises  those  "that  deal  with  mat- 
ters philosophical";  but  because  they  are  "wrapped  within  the  fold  of  the 
proposed  subject"  and  are  not  free  in  invention,  it  is  to  be  questioned 
"whether  they  properly  be  poets."  The  class  to  which  Sidney  applies 
his  ideas  of  imitative  fiction  in  general,  "  indeed  right  poets 

-' Cp.  Midsummer-Night^ s  Dream  (V,  i,   12): 

The  poet's  eye,  in  a  fine  frenzy  rolling, 

Doth  glance  from  heaven  to  earth,  from  earth  to  heaven; 

And   as   imagination   bodies   forth 

The  forms  of  things  unknown,  the  poet's  pen 

Turns  them  to  shapes  and  gives  to  airy  nothing 

A  local  habitation  and  a  name. 

"  Smith,  i,  156,  157.     Cp.  Sidney's  own  work  in  his  Arcadia. 


102  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

be  they  which to  imitate  borrow  nothing  of  what  is, 

hath  been,  or  shall  be:  but  range,  only  reined  with  learned  discretion, 
into  the  divine  consideration  of  what  may  be,  and  should  be.     These 

may  justly  be  termed  Vates.''^    They  "do  merely  make 

to  imitate,  and  imitate  both  to  delight  and  teach";  their  work  of  creative 
ideal  imitation  "being  ihe  noblest  scope  to  which  ever  any  learning  was 
directed.  "28 

The  universal  truths  of  ideal  imitation  must  be  bodied  forth  in  con- 
crete images,  and  herein  lies  the  superiority  of  poetry  over  philosophy. 
The  philosopher,  "setting  down  with  thorny  argument  the  bare  rule"  in 
abstract  and  general  terms,  is  difficult  to  understand  and  does  not  appeal 
to  the  imagination.  His  abstraction  and  the  historian's  example  are 
alike  inadequate.  The  "peerless  poet"  at  once  transcends  the  de- 
ficiencies of  both:  "he  coupleth  the  general  notion  with  the  particular 
example,"  yielding  "to  the  powers  of  the  mind  an  image  of  that  whereof 
the  philosopher  bestoweth  but  a  wordish  description.  "^^  The  philoso- 
pher's learned  definitions  lie  "dark  before  the  imagination  and  judging 
power,  if  they  be  not  illuminated  or  figured  forth  by  the  speaking  picture 
of  poesy.  "^^ 

By  means  of  the  vivid,  concrete  pictures  of  his  creative  imagination, 
the  poet  is  enabled  so  to  present  examples  of  ideal  truth  that  they  must 

2«/6.,    155,    158,    159. 

='  lb.,  164.  The  process  is  effectively  described  in  verses  by  Sir  John  Davies 
(quoted  by  Coleridge,  Biog.  Lit.,  chap,  xiv): 

Thus   doth    she,    when   from   individual    states 
She   doth   abstract    the   universal   kinds, 
Which  then  reclothed  in  divers  names  and  fates 
Steal  access  thro'  our  senses  to  our  minds. 

'"  lb.,  165.     Cp.  Dryden:  "Neither  is  it  so  much  the  morality  of  a  grave  sentence 

but  it  is  some  lively  and  apt  description,  dressed  in  such  colors  of 

speech  that  it  sets  before  your  eyes  the  absent  object  as  perfectly  and  more  dehght- 
fully  than  nature"  (Pref.  Annus  Mirabilis).  "Imaging,"  says  Dryden  again,  "is  in 
itself  the  very  height  and  life  of  poetry.  'Tis  as  Longinus  describes  it,  a  discourse 
which,  by  a  kind  of  enthusiasm,  or  extraordinary  emotion  of  the  soul,  makes  it  seem 
to  us  that  we  behold  those  things  which  the  poet  paints,  so  as  to  be  pleased  with  them 
and  admire  them"  (Pref.  Stale  of  Innocence).  Cp.  Bunyan  ("Author's  Apology", 
Pilgrim's  Progress:) 

This  book  it  chaUceth  out  before  thine  eyes 

The    man    that    seeks    the   everlasting   prize 

Then  read  my  fancies.     They  will  stick  like  burrs, 
And  may  be  to  the  helpless,  comforters. 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  103 

needs  "  strike,  pierce, "  and  "  possess  the  sight  of  the  soul. "  In  a  passage 
that  reminds  one  of  Spenser's  plan  for  the  Faery  Queen,  Sidney  gives  a 
list  of  heroes  in  which  poets  have  concretely  figured  forth  various  ideals, 
Ulysses  and  Diomedes  standing  for  wisdom  and  temperance,  Achilles  for 
valor,  Nisus  and  Eurialus  for  friendship,  Oedipus  for  "remorse  of  con- 
science," Agamemnon  for  "soon-repenting  pride,"  and  so  on.  And  as 
Spenser  found  the  great  "ethic  part"  of  life  "so  much  more  profitable 
and  gracious"  in  "doctrine  by  example,"  so  does  Sidney.  The  great 
Alexander,  for  instance,  "well  found  he  received  more  bravery  of  mind  by 
the  pattern  of  Achilles  than  by  hearing  the  definition  of  fortitude. " 
Indeed,  in  the  speaking  pictures  of  poetry  we  have  "all  virtues,  vices, 
and  passions  so  in  their  own  natural  seats  laid  to  the  view  that  we  seem 
not  to  hear  of  them,  but  clearly  to  see  through  them."^^ 

The  exposition  of  fiction  or  ideal  imitation  as  presented  in  Sidney's 
Apology  does  not  stand  in  academic  disharmony  with  the  poetic  practice 
of  himself  and  Spenser.^-  His  Arcadia,  which  according  to  his  own 
views  might  be  classed  as  a  poem — and  was  so  designated  by  others, — 
exemplifies  his  idea  of  the  free  play  of  the  poet's  imagination  in  the  realm 
of  the  ideal.  In  accordance  with  his  critical  theory,  we  have  in  the 
Arcadia  a  departure  from  the  tradition  of  allegory  and  from  the  former 
specious  linking  of  fact  and  fable,  resulting  in  one  of  the  first  notable 
examples  in  England  of  pure  fiction  in  the  form  of  romance.  To  ap- 
preciate that  "amatorious  poem"  the  readers  must  have  been  at  least 
"at  that  child's  age,  to  know  that  the  poet's  persons  and  doings  are  but 
pictures  what  should  be,  and  not  stories  what  have  been.  "^'  The  com- 
ments of  Sidney's  intimate  friend  Sir  Fulke  Greville  as  to  the  author's 
motives  in  the  Arcadia  are  strikingly  in  accord  with  utterances  of  the 
Apology.  "In  all  these  creatures  of  his  making,"  says  Greville,  "his 
intent  and  scope  was  to  turn  the  barren  philosophy  precepts  into  preg- 
nant images  of  life," — "to  limn  out  such  exact  pictures  of  every  posture 
in  the  mind,"  that  men  "might  (as  in  a  glass)  see  how  to  set  a  good 
countenance"  upon  adversity  and  the  vicissitudes  of  life  in  general.^^ 

^1/6.,   166,   189. 

'^  Whether  or  not,  as  Dr.  Grosart  conjectured,  Spenser's  English  Poet  is  incorporated 
in  Sidney's  Apology,  the  two  poet  friends  are  strikingly  in  accord  on  many  points 
of    critical    theory. 

^  Apology,    Smith,    i,    185. 

^  Greville's  Life  of  Sidney,  ed.  N.  Smith,  p.  16.  Sidney's  own  modest  explanation 
of  his  motive,  namely,  to  unburden  his  head  of  fancies,  does  not  necessarily  conflict 
with    these    statements. 


104  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

In  this  famous  and  influential  romance,  as  in  the  Faery  Queen,  the  age 
was  given  an  example  of  ideal  imitation,  a  poet's  visions  of  beauty  and 
truth  being  bodied  forth  in  speaking  pictures.'* 

Spenser's  fictional  imitations,  highly  romantic  and  idealistic,  are 
veiled  in  a  mist  of  allegory,  the  "misty  smoke"  so  much  admired  by 
Hawes,  who  aspired  to  hide  his  "mind  underneath  a  fable. "  Neglecting 
the  plebeian  drama,  Spenser  chooses  pastoralism  and  romance  as  forms 
especially  fitted  for  hiding  from  "common  view"^^  the  "fairer  parts"  of 
his  work  and  for  giving  it  elevation  and  distinction.  In  this  he  was 
successful,  being  much  praised  by  his  contemporaries  for  his  "high 
drifts"  and  "deep  conceits."  But  modern  critics  find  the  "continued 
allegory,  or  dark  conceit,  "^^  of  his  Faery  Queen  loose  and  inconsistent. 
Looseness  and  inconsistency,  however,  were  necessary  characteristics  of 
the  allegories  extracted  from  literature  by  the  forced  interpretations  of 
Spenser's  contemporaries;  and  the  critical  comment  of  the  time  indicates 
that  it  was  not  expected  that  the  allegory  of  a  poem  should  be  clearly 
and  logically  worked  out  from  beginning  to  end.  Spenser  explains  to 
Raleigh  the  "general  intention"  of  his  work,  because  he  knows  "how 
doubtfully  all  allegories  may  be  construed."  It  was  deemed  commend- 
ably  sufficient  if  the  poem  contained  pleasing  mysteries,  deep  conceits, 
high  drifts;  a  certain  romantic  haziness  in  the  allegory  added  to  its 
charm  rather  than  detracted  from  it,  and  Spenser's  covert  fables, 
pleasingly  misty,  were  in  accord  with  the  allegorical  theory  and  taste  of 
his  time  and  were  more  than  satisfactory. 

Moreover,  Spenser  had  other  interests  than  allegory  and,  by  virtue  of 
the  precept  and  example  of  his  patron  Sir  Philip  Sidney  as  well  as  by 
other  influences  of  his  age,  he  seems  ever  to  have  been  on  the  verge  of 

'^  Sidney's  theory  of  poetic  fiction  further  connects  itself  interestingly  with  the 
mooted  question  as  to  whether  his  sonnet  sequence  is  to  be  considered  autobiographi- 
cal or  fictitious.  Courthope  {Hist.  Eng.  Poetry,  ii,  226),  after  commenting  on  the 
idealism  of  the  Arcadia,  remarks  that  "another  mood  of  Sidney's  romantic  ideahsm 
is  embodied  in  the  series  of  sonnets  entitled  Astrophe'-  and  Stella".  He  further  main- 
tains that  the  sonnets  are  of  "fictitious  character"  and  that  "such  compositions  are 
the  work  of  a  poet,  and  not  of  a  historian  or  an  autobiographer".  Whatever  may  be 
the  truth  of  the  matter,  Sidney's  own  idea  of  what  poetry  should  be  admirably  supports 
Courthope's  contention.  If  the  sonnets  constitute  an  ideal  imitation  of  the  poet's 
dreams  of  what  might  have  been,  the  fiction  is  so  vividly  and  feeUngly  conceived  and 
imaged  that  the  reader  is  almost  constrained  to  accept  it  as  true,  thereby  confirming 
Sidney's  assertion  that  feigned  examples  may  have  as  much  force  as  true  ones. 

^  See  verses  prefixed  to  F.  Q. 

''  Prefatory  Letter  to  Raleigh. 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  105 

giving  that  free  scope  to  his  creative  imagination  that  would  relinquish 
allegory  for  ideal  imitation  or  pure  fiction.  Indeed,  the  "feigned 
history"  of  his  Faery  Queen  admirably  exemplifies  Sidney's  conception  of 
fiction  as  ideal  imitation.  Although  he  is  amiably  disposed  toward 
those  who  "had  rather  have  good  discipline  delivered  plainly  in  the  way 
of  precepts,  or  sermoned  at  large,"  he  finds  "doctrine  by  example"  "so 

much    more    profitable    and    gracious than    by    rule"^^ 

that  he  feels  no  doubt  as  to  the  advisability  of  employing  a  plausible 
fiction  for  the  conveyance  of  his  ideals  of  life.  Choosing  material  ame- 
nable to  the  utmost  freedom  of  imagination,  he,  for  further  attractiveness, 
colors  it  "with  an  historical  fiction."  The  historical  coloring,  however, 
is  nowise  at  variance  with  Sidney's  contention  that  history  is  inadequate 
as  the  subject-matter  of  poetry,  for  in  Spenser's  poem  the  unsatisfying 
limitations  of  true  history  are  transcended  by  the  portrayal  in  feigned 
history  of  "acts  and  events  greater  and  more  heroical."^^ 

In  his  idealized  poetic  fiction,  then,  Spenser  meets  the  test  reiterated 
by  Sidney,  "  the  right  describing  note  to  know  a  poet  by, "  namely,  "  that 
feigning  notable  images  of  virtues,  vices,  or  what  else,  with  that  delightful 
teaching."*"  From  his  "fore-conceit"  as  a  maker,  ranging  freely  within 
the  zodiac  of  his  wit,  he  bodies  forth  in  vivid,  speaking  pictures  the  won- 
derful creations  of  ideal  imitation.  Like  Sidney,  turning  away  from  the 
brazen  world  of  nature  with  its  disappointing  illusions  and  unrealized 
ambitions,  he  delivers  the  golden  world  of  a  poet's  imagination.  Writing 
in  full  sympathy  with  the  theory  of  poetic  fixtion  held  by  Sidney,  his 
friend  and  courtly  patron,  and  strikingly  exemplifying  the  principal 
points  of  this  theory,  this  poets'  poet  brings  forth,  as  Lowell  says,  the 
first  great  ideal  poem  in  English. 

Webbe's  general  narrowness  of  view  precludes  any  such  lofty  concep- 
tion of  creative  imitation  as  that  held  by  Sidney  and  Spenser.  In  fact 
his  ideas  on  fiction  are,  like  those  of  such  writers  as  Golding  and  Lodge, 
limited  to  the  allegorical  aspect.  This  is  manifested  in  his  attitude 
toward  Ovid,  whose  Metamorphoses,  he  says,  "though  it  consisted  of 
feigned  fables  for  the  most  part,  and  poetical  inventions,  yet  being 
moralized  according  to  his  meaning,  and  the  truth  of  every  tale  being 
discovered,  it  is  a  work  of  exceeding  wisdom  and  sound  judgment";  and 

'*  Bacon  {Adv.  Learning,  Bk.  II,  IV,  2).    Shakespeare  and  other  EUzabethan  writers 
work  with  similar  freedom  in  historical  material. 
*"  Apology,    Smith,    i,    160. 


106  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

"  the  rest  of  his  doings,  though  they  tend  to  the  vain  dehghts  of  love  and 

dalUance yet  surely  are  mixed  with  much  good  counsel 

and  profitable  lessons,  if  they  be  wisely  and  narrowly  read."^^  Webbe 
rather  neglects  the  allegorical  interpretation  of  the  Aeneid,  but  he 
finds  in  the  eclogues  of  the  ancients,  "in  a  cloak  of  simplicity" 
under  "rude  and  homely"  matter  and  simple  personages,  "much 
pleasant  and  profitable  delight."  In  discussing  this  form  he  gives 
Spenser  enthusiastic  praise  for  his  "learned  conveyance"  of  hidden 
meanings,  his  "much  matter  uttered  somewhat  covertly. "''^ 

Puttenham,  neglecting  the  allegorical  interpretation  in  a  larger  sense, 
though  commending  allegory  as  one  of  the  courtly  figures  of  speech,  deals 
with  fiction  mainly  under  the  aspects  of  making  and  imitation.  By 
making,  which  he  regards  as  the  highest  kind  of  poetical  activity,  he 
evidently  means  a  mode  of  invention  such  as  that  so  strongly  insisted 
upon  by  Sidney  as  the  essential  and  distinguishing  element  of  poetry, 
namely,  the  fiction  of  ideal  imitation.  This  higher  aspect  of  the  art  he 
takes  up  at  the  very  beginning  of  his  long  discourse^  where  he  differen- 
tiates between  maker  and  translator  and  asserts  the  preeminence 
of  the  former.  The  poet  as  maker  is  "such  as  (by  way  of 
resemblance  and  reverently)  we  may  say  of  God;  who  without  any  travail 
to  his  divine  imagination  made  all  the  world  of  naught,  nor  also  by  any 
pattern  or  mold,  as  the  Platonics  with  their  Ideas  do  phantastically 
suppose."  The  true  poet  "makes  and  contrives  out  of  his  own  brain 
both  the  verse  and  the  matter  of  his  poem,  and  not  by  any  foreign  copy  or 
example,  as  doth  the  translator,  who  therefore  may  well  be  said  a  versifier, 
but  not  a  poet.  "^^  By  virtue  of  this  high  nature  of  the  work  of  a  real 
poet  his  "name  and  profession"  are  given  "no  small  dignity  and  pre- 
eminence, above  all  other  artificers,  scientific  or  mechanical. "  Although 
a  poet  may  also  be  a  "counterfeiter"  or  copier,  expressing  "the  true  and 

lively  of  everything set  before  him,"  making  his  work  of 

a  much  higher  order;  and  in  general  it   is  "of  poets  thus  to  be  conceived, 
that  if  they  be  able  to  devise  and  make  all  these  things  of  themselves, 

^'  Discourse,  Smith,  i,  238,  239. 

« lb.,     262,     264. 

"  Art  of  English  Poesy,  Smith,  ii,  3,  4. 

"  These  are  the  words  that  offended  Sir  John  Harington,  who  soon  after  brought 
out  his  translation  of  Orlando  Furioso,  presumably  an  aristocratic  performance  far 
above  the  level  of  the  despised  "versifier"  (cf.  Smith,  ii,  196). 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  107 

without  any  subject  of  verity,  that  they  be  (by  manner  of  speech)  as 
creating  gods." 

In  a  chapter^^  devoted  to  "historical  poesy" — which  kind,  then 
coming  into  vogue  in  England,  he  gives  a  very  high  place,  especially 
because  of  the  "delectation  reviving  our  spirits"  from  beholding  "as  it 
were  in  a  glass  the  lovely  image  of  our  dear  forefathers"^*' — Puttenham 
is  not  so  much  at  odds  as  might  at  first  appear  with  Sidney's  rejection  of 
history  as  the  subject-matter  of  poetry.  For  he  holds  that  historical 
poetry  may  freely  transcend  fact  "expedient  to  the  purpose,  namely  to 
be  used  either  for  example  or  for  pleasure."  The  poet  has  the  "hand- 
ling   at  his  pleasure"  and  his  "feigned  matter  or  alto- 
gether fabulous,"  besides  making  "more  mirth,"  may  also  be  better  "for 
example  than  the  most  true  and  veritable. "  These  advantages  of  feigned 
matter  over  fact  led  the  poets  of  Greece  and  Rome  "  to  devise  many 
historical  matters  of  no  verity  at  all"  and  we  have  the  "fabulous  or 
mixt"  reports  of  Homer  and  others  invaluable  both  for  "honest  recrea- 
tion and  good  example."  In  short,  Puttenham 's  theory  of  historical 
poetry,  allowing  such  fictitious  additions  and  alterations  as  may  be 
necessary  for  the  poet's  idealization  of  his  material,  approximates 
Spenser's  "historical  fiction"  and  Bacon's  "feigned  history"  and  permits 
the  liberties  of  Sidney's  ideal  imitation. 

Poetic  fiction  receives  further  attention  from  Puttenham  at  the  end 
of  his  treatise  in  a  chapter  on  the  relations  between  art  and  nature. 
After  outlining  the  various  relations  between  art  and  nature  such  as  are 
especially  illustrated  in  arts  other  than  poetry,  he  comes  to  the  considera- 
tion of  the  more  purely  imaginative  work  of  the  poet.  This  he  places 
highest  of  all;  the  poet  by  virtue  of  the  activity  and  excellence  of  his 
invention,  helped  by  "a  clear  and  bright  fantasy  and  imagination," 
rises  above  other  artists,  for  he  works  "even  as  nature  herself  working  by 
her  own  peculiar  virtue  and  proper  instinct  and  not  by  example  or 

«  Smith,    ii,    40-44. 

^^  This  is  in  the  spirit  of  the  work  of  Daniel,  whom  Drayton  criticized  as  "too  much 
a  historian  in  verse"  (Courthope,  Hist.  Eng.  Poetry,  iii,  19).  Daniel,  however,  allowed 
himself  the  hcense  of  fiction,  declaring  in  "The  Epistle  Dedicatory"  of  his  Civil  Wars 
that  "many  of  these  images  are  drawn  with  the  pencil  of  mine  own  conceiving", 
though  he  is  confident  that  "they  are  according  to  the  portraiture  of  nature"  {Works, 
ii,  7).  Puttenham 's  own  work  in  this  kind,  which  enhances  his  interest  in  the  subject, 
he  designates  as  "a  little  brief  romance  or  historical  ditty". 


108  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

meditation  or  exercise  as  all  other  artificers  do.  "*^  Thus  placing  the 
poet's  creative  imagination  on  an  equality  with  nature  and  regarding  its 
workings  as  due  to  some  peculiar  rare  gift  or  instinct,  Puttenham,  like 
Sidney,  exalts  poetic  fiction  as  the  highest  form  of  intellectual  and 
spiritual  activity  and  the  loftiest  expression  of  the  human  soul. 

Sir  John  Harington  names  as  "the  two  parts  of  poetry,"  "invention 
or  fiction  and  verse,"  declaring  in  concord  with  Sidney  that  the  "princi- 
pal  part is   fiction   and    imitation.  "^^     Unlike    Sidney, 

however,  looking  chiefly  to  past  performances  in  poetry  rather  than  to 
future  creation,  Harington  in  considering  poetic  fiction  is  occupied 
largely  with  the  allegorical  aspect.  Commending  the  practice  of  the 
ancients  of  wrapping  in  their  writings  "divers  and  sundry  meanings"  or 
"mysteries,"  he  explains  the  three  chief  senses  to  be  found  in  an  allegori- 
cal poetic  fiction.  First,  in  the  "Uteral  sense,"  there  may  be  "set  down 
in  manner  of  an  history  the  acts  and  notable  exploits  of  some  persons 
worthy  memory;  then  in  the  same  fiction"  may  be  found  the  "moral 
sense  profitable  for  the  active  life  of  man";  and  lastly  may  be  compre- 
hended "  some  true  understanding  of  natural  philosophy,  or  sometimes  of 
politic  government,  and  now  and  then  of  divinity."*^  In  view  of  this 
wealth  of  meaning  in  poetry,  Harington  challenges  any  man  to  "judge  if 
it  be  a  matter  of  mean  art  or  wit  to  contain  in  one  historical  narration, 
either  true  or  feigned,  so  many,  so  diverse,  and  so  deep  conceits." 
Giving  an  example  of  this  threefold  interpretation  from  Ovid's  Metamor- 
phoses, he  declares  that  he  could  pick  out  "like  infinite  allegories"  from 
"other  poetical  fictions" — he  might  have  cited  the  recently  published 
Faery   Queen.     Such   poetry   affords   something   for   all:  the    "weaker 

"  Cp.  again  Shakespeare's  Poet  in  Timon  of  Athens  (I,  i,  20): 

Our  poesy  is  as  a   gum,   which  oozes 
From  whence   'tis  nourish 'd.     The  fire  i'  the  flint 
Shows  not  till  it  be  struck;  our  gentle  flame 
Provokes    itself. 

«  Pref.  Orlando  Fttrioso,  Smith,  ii,  201  ff.  Harington  of  course  is  influenced  by 
Sidney's   Apology. 

*^  Cp.  Spenser's  allegories.  Bacon,  after  explaining  his  divisions  of  poetry — 
"narrative,  representative,  and  allusive" — and  discussing  among  other  kinds  "para- 
boUcal",  observes  that  "there  remaineth  yet  another  use  of  poetry  paraboHcal, 
opposite  to  that  which  we  last  mentioned:  for  that  tendeth  to  demonstrate  and  illus- 
trate that  which  is  taught  or  dehvered,  and  this  other  to  retire  and  obscure  it:  that  is, 
when  the  secrets  and  mysteries  of  reUgion,  policy,  or  philosophy,  are  involved  in 
fables  or  parables.  Of  this  in  divine  poesy  we  see  the  use  is  authorized  "  {Adv.  Learning, 
Bk.  II,  IV,  4). 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OP  POETRY  109 

capacities"  may  feed  upon  the  story  and  sweetness  of  verse;  for  "stronger 
stomachs"  there  is  the  "moral  sense";  and  for  the  "more  high  conceited" 
the  deeper  allegorical  significance.^"  This  "mystical  writing  of  verse," 
moreover,  Harington  considers  an  excellent  way  to  preserve  learning 
from  corruption,  and  he  holds  up  the  example  of  the  best  poets  of  ancient 
times,  who  purposely  concealed  the  "deep  mysteries  of  learning"  under 
a  "veil  of  fables,"  one  reason  for  this  being  that  these  mysteries  "might 
not  be  rashly  abused  by  profane  wits." 

Harington  evidently  lays  more  stress  upon  the  allegorical  element  of 
poetic  fiction  than  does  Sidney.  With  Sidney  the  fiction  is  justified  \^^,^-' 
chiefly  by  the  ideals  that  it  embodies,  with  Harington  chiefly  by  the 
allegorical  interpretation  that  can  be  extracted.  Sidney  doubtless  had 
in  mind  such  potent,  concrete  idealism  as  is  embodied  in  the  work  of 
himself  and  Spenser,  while  Harington,  thinking  of  Ariosto  and  Ovid,  felt 
the  need  of  emphasizing  interpretation.  Ultimately,  however,  their 
views  are  not  greatly  divergent,  and  Harington's  praise  of  allegory  cen- 
ters about  his  advocacy  of  fiction  or  imitation  as  the  "principal  part  of 
poetry."  By  imitation  he  means,  as  did  Sidney,  the  work  of  creative 
imagination.  The  art  of  poets  is  "an  imitation,"  he  says,  and  therefore 
they  "are  allowed  to  feign  what  they  hst. "  Poets  never  affirming  their 
works  to  be  true  give  them  forth  as  "fables  and  imitations."  Such  are 
parables,  and  imitation  in  this  form  is  supported  by  the  example  of 
Demosthenes  and  the  prophet  Nathan — or,  "to  go  higher,  did  not  our 
Saviour  himself  speak  in  parables?"     Wherein  it  is  manifest  that  he  in 

all  holiness,   wisdom,   and   truth   "used   parables even 

such  as  discreet  poets  use and  therefore  for  that  part  of 

poetry  of  imitation,"  Harington's  conclusion  is  that  "nobody  will  make 
any  question  but  it  is  not  only  allowable,  but  godly  and  commendable,  if 
the  poets  ill  handHng  of  it  do  not  mar  and  pervert  the  good  use  of  it. " 

In  Nash's  conception  poetic  fiction  comprises  fable  and  allegory.  He 
accounts  "poetry  as  of  a  more  hidden  and  divine  kind  of  philosophy, 
enwrapped  in  blind  fables  and  dark  stories."  Under  "  feigned  stories " 
are  included  "many  profitable  moral  precepts,"  and  the  more  deeply 
hidden  the  allegory  the  better  the  poetry,  for  "even  as  in  vines  the 
grapes  that  are  fairest  and  sweetest  are  couched  under  the  branches  that 
are  broadest  and  biggest,  even  so  in  poems  the  things  that  are  most 
profitable  are  shrouded  under  the  fables  that  are  most  obscure."     Re- 

*°  Cp.  Stanyhurst,  Ded.  Aeneid  (Smith,  i,  136):  "The  shallow  reader  may  be 
delighted  with  a  smooth  tale,  and  the  diving  searcher  may  be  advantaged  by  sowning 
a  precious  treatise". 


110  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

iterating  this  figure,  and  declaring  that  because  a  matter  is  "fabulous" 
it  is  not,  therefore,  "frivolous,"  Nash  cites  Virgil,  Ovid,  and  Lucian  as 
expressing  divine  mysteries  under  the  "covert"  of  fables  and  hopes  that 
"  there  is  no  man  so  distrustful  to  doubt  that  deeper  divinity  is  included 
in  poet's  inventions."  Even  most  wanton  fictions  have  their  defense, 
for  the  unchaste  part  can  be  disregarded  and,  according  to  the  old  simile, 
"as  the  bee  out  of  the  bitterest  flowers  and  sharpest  thistles  gathers 
honey,  so  out  of  the  filthiest  fables  may  profitable  knowledge  be  sucked 
and  selected.  "^^  Nash's  view  of  poetic  fiction,  in  short,  exemplifies  the 
traditional  moral-allegorical  interpretation  academically  applied  to  the 
poetry  of  the  ancients. 

Chapman's  advocacy  of  the  fiction  of  poetry  seems  to  derive  special 
enthusiasm  from  his  own  work  in  translating  Homer.  His  translation  of 
the  Shield  of  Achilles  gives  rise  to  triumphant  elation  over  the  "depth  of 
conceit"  of  his  author,  whose  allegorical  fiction  he  thinks  overmatches 
anything  to  be  found  in  Virgil.  In  the  preface  to  his  Odyssey  he  insists 
upon  the  high  nature  of  the  truths  contained  in  poetic  fiction  and  em- 
phasizes their  great  value  in  application  to  the  conduct  of  life.  "Nor  is 
this  all-comprising  poesy  fantastic  or  merely  fictive,"  he  declares,  for  it 
embodies  "  the  most  material  and  doctrinal  illations  of  truth,  both  for  all 
manly  information  of  manners  in  the  young,  all  prescription  of  justice, 
and  even  Christian  piety,  in  the  most  grave  and  high  governed. "  For 
such  purposes  the  poet,  "with  all  height  of  expression,"  "creates  both  a 

body  and  a  soul wherein,  if  the  body  (being  the  letter  or 

history)  seems  fictive,  and  beyond  possibility  to  bring  into  act,  the  sense 
then  and  allegory,  which  is  the  soul,  is  to  be  sought."  The  poet  has 
license  to  exaggerate  the  body  or  story  of  his  fiction  in  order  to  impress 
its  inner  meaning,  which  may  represent  the  deepest  truth.  For  the 
purposes  of  his  art  he  is  at  liberty  to  give  "a  more  eminent  expressure  of 
virtue  for  her  loveliness,  and  of  vice  for  her  ugliness,  in  their  several 
effects,  going  beyond  the  life,  than  any  art  within  life  can  possibly  de- 
lineate. "^-  Here  again  is  the  doctrine  of  ideal  imitation,  and  Chapman 
adds  the  thought  that  the  poet  in  embodying  his  ideals  is  setting  forth 
the  deepest  realities.     There  is  no  "such  reality  of  wisdom's  truth  in  all 

human  excellence,  as  in  poet's  fictions no  artist  being  so 

strictly  and  inextricably  confined  to  all  the  laws  of  learning,  wisdom,  and 
truth  as  a  poet.  "^' 

"  Anatomy  cf  Absurdity,  Smith,  i,  328,  329,  332. 

'^Ded.  Odyssey,  Works,   (1875),  ii,  237. 

"  Pref.  Iliad,  Works,  iii,  3. 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  111 

One  of  the  great  problems  of  the  criticism  of  this  period,  it  is  evident, 
is  to  gain  recognition  for  poetry  as  a  high  and  serious  expression  of 
truth,  and  thereby  to  justify  the  art.  In  order  to  accompHsh  this,  it  is 
necessary  to  mal^e  clear  the  fact  of  two  kinds  of  truth  and  to  discriminate 
between  the  two:  Hteral  or  historical  truth  must  be  differentiated  from 
spiritual  or  ideal  truth;  and  the  reality  and  rare  value  of  the  latter  es- 
tablished. Poetry  as  fiction  has  been  condemned  as  ostensibly  false. 
To  meet  this  objection  the  allegorical  interpretation  is  applied  whereby 
fictitious  stories  are  made  to  yield  profound  moral  truths  applicable  to 
the  life  of  man.  The  value  of  poetry  according  to  this  conception  is 
measured  largely  by  the  significance  to  be  extracted  by  a  skillful  inter- 
pretation, and  poetry  full  of  hidden  meanings  and  deep  conceits  is  deemed 
thereby  to  be  of  superior  merit.  The  conception  of  poetic  fiction  as 
allegory,  however,  resting  as  it  often  does  on  the  allegorical  interpretation 
of  ancient  poems  in  which  allegory  was  not  intended,  is  vague  and  in- 
definite, and  without  substantial  philosophical  basis;  and  in  general, 
though  poetic  fiction  as  allegory  has  the  advantage  of  placing  the  art 
somewhat  out  of  reach  of  base  wits,  this  mode  of  poetry  is  not  wholly 
adequate  and  satisfying,  lacking  as  it  does  the  necessary  freedom  for  the 
highest  workings  of  the  imagination. 

But  though  allegory  is  extolled  as  a  mode  of  interpretation  in  defense 
of  poetic  fiction  and  as  a  potent  method  of  enhancing  poetic  values  and 
conserving  art,  its  limitations  are  not  allowed  seriously  to  hamper  poetry, 
its  meaning  and  application  remaining  vague  and  indefinite.  The  signi- 
fication of  the  term  itself  is  loosely  extended  and,  as  with  Gascoigne,  often 
means  little  more  than  invention.  A  clearer  and  more  philosophically 
substantial  explanation  of  poetic  fiction  is  therefore  needed,  and  it  comes 
in  Sir  Philip  Sidney's  promulgation  of  ideal  imitation.  This  proposes 
frankly  to  give  up  any  pretense  of  fact  or  history,  or  any  deceptive 
mingling  of  fact  and  fiction,  and  to  accept  poetry  as  a  product  of  pure 
imagination.     Fiction  in  the  aspect  of  ideal  imitation  is  to  be  regarded  as  - 

the  very  essence  or  heart  of  poetry,  the  element  that  makes  it  poetry.  It  ^ 
is  the  high  and  peculiar  function  of  poetry  to  furnish  men  with  the 
necessary  fiction  of  life,  in  other  words  with  ideals.  Ideals  in  the  form  of 
fictitious  examples,  all  others  being  imperfect  and  insufficient,  are  in- 
dispensable for  man's  proper  mental  and  spiritual  development.  The 
examples  afforded  by  life  and  history,  being  far  from  perfect,  are  inade- 
quate, and,  since  philosophy  is  not  sufficiently  concrete  in  its  appeal  to 
serve  as  a  potent  force  in  everyday  life,  it  becomes  the  unique  office  of 


112  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

poetry  in  transcending  these  limitations  to  minister  in  the  highest  possible 
way  to  the  welfare  of  man  by  furnishing  him  with  vivid  examples  of  life 
as  it  might  be  and  should  be.  Objections  that  these  examples  are  ficti- 
tious are  absurd,  for  the  great  heroes  of  fiction  are  evidently  truer  to 
men's  ideals  of  universal  truth  and  justice  than  are  the  heroes  of  real  life, 
and  men  instinctively  accept  them  as  such.  In  the  truth  and  power  of 
the  poet's  factions  or  ideal  imitations,  moreover,  lies  the  real  test  of  poetry, 
for  his  ability  to  perceive  and  body  forth  universal  truth  is  indubitably 
a  surer  and  fairer  measure  of  his  powers  as  a  poet  than  any  that  could  be 
applied  to  any  less  vital  aspect  of  his  art.  Thus,  poetry,  by  virtue  of  its 
essential  and  distinguishing  element  fiction,  stands  as  the  highest  ex- 
pression of  man's  ideals,  and  as  such  is  one  of  the  most  powerful  factors 
in  his  spiritual  development. 

IV.  The  Didactic  Function  of  Poktry 

To  te^.ch  and  to  please  were  universally  recognized  by  Elizabethan 
critics  as  the  two  great  ends  of  poetry.  The  conception  of  poetry  as  a 
form  of  knowledge  and  means  of  instruction  was  peculiarly  acceptable, 
according  as  it  did,  not  only  with  national  literary  traditions  and  practices 
handed  down  from  the  past,  but  also  with  the  cultural  motive  and  ex- 
perience resulting  from  contact  with  the  new  learning.  As  in  the  earlier 
days  miracle  plays  and  poetical  allegories  afforded  moral  lessons,  so  in  the 
time  of  Elizabeth  the  new  wealth  of  classical  and  renaissance  poetry  was 
regarded  bv  eager  readers  as  a  bounteous  source  of  instruction  in  the  ways 
of  life  and  the  world.  Learning  was  necessary  to  enter  into  this  treasury 
and  much  learning  it  yielded.  Poetry  thus  viewed  was  the  repository 
for  the  wisdom  of  the  learned  and  great  wherein  they  preserved  in  pleas- 
ing form  the  mysteries  of  knowledge  for  the  use  and  advancement  of 
mankind. 

The  didactic  function  of  poetry,  noreover,  was  strongly  set  before 
EHzabethan  critics  by  such  early  writers  as  Elyot  and  Wilson.  Elyot 
had  devoted  a  chapter  in  his  famous  Governor^  to  the  praise  of  poetry  as 
a  very  necessary  part  of  the  education  of  young  gentlemen.  His  dis- 
cussion contains  the  assertion  that  in  ancient  times  all  wisdom  was 
supposed  to  be  contained  in  poetry,  which  "was  the  first  philosophy  that 
ever  was  known :  whereby  men  from  their  childhood  were  brought  to  the 
reason  how  to  live  well,  learning  thereby  not  only  manners  and  natural 
aflfections,  but     also  the  wonderful  works    of  nature,  mixing  serious 

iBk.  I,  chap.  X,  p.   120  ff. 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  113 

matter  with  things  that  were  pleasant."  For  this  Elyot  alleges  the 
authority  of  Plato  and  Aristotle,  and  he  further  supports  preceptorial 
values  by  some  verses  that  he  "interprets"  from  Horace.  Homer,  he 
asserts,  afifords  incomparable  lessons  and  inspiration  for  young  men,  and 
Virgil  possesses  similar  advantages.  Even  in  comedy  "evil  is  not 
taught  but  discovered,"  and  in  the  "wanton  books"  of  Plautus  and  Ovid 
Elyot  finds  "right  commendable  and  noble  sentences,"  concluding  that, 
though  such  books  should  be  withheld  from  some  children,  "none  an- 
cient poet  would  be  excluded  from  the  lesson  of  such  as  desireth  to  come 
to  the  perfection  of  wisdom. "  The  instructional  value  of  poetry  is  also 
affirmed  by  Thomas  Wilson,  who  in  his  Rhetoric  asserting  that  poets  are 
"wise  men"  declares  that  there  is  no  tale  among  them  that  does  not 
comprehend  something  pertaining  "either  to  the  amendment  of  man- 
ners, to  the  knowledge  of  truth,  to  the  setting  forth  of  nature's  work,  or 
else  to  the  understanding  of  some  notable  thing  done.  "^ 

Authors  and  printers  throughout  the  period  in  prefaces  and  titles 
commonly  profess  their  philanthropically  didactic  intentions.  Such 
motive  handed  down  from  the  middle  ages  appears  in  the  title-page  of 
John  Wayland's  version  of  Lydgate's  Fall  of  Princes  (1554) — "wherein 
may  be  seen  what  vices  bring  men  to  destruction,  with  notable  warnings 
how  the  like  may  be  avoided."^  A  similar  "wherein"  clause  was  long 
inserted  in  the  title  page  of  the  Mirror  for  Magistrates-^  and  in  the  edition 
of  1578  William  Baldwin,  in  his  solemn  address  to  the  nobility  and  others 
in  office,  calls  special  attention  to  the  examples  or  lessons  contained  in 
the  book,  trusting  that  they  may  move  men  to  amendment — "this  is 
the  chief  end  why  this  book  is  set  forth.  "■*    Translators  in  general  profess 

2  Smith,  i,  xxiv.  These  utterances  of  Elyot  and  Wilson  may  be  compared  with 
those  of  Jonson  in  the  dedication  of  his  Vol  pone,  where  he  lays  stress  upon  "the' 
doctrine,  which  is  the  principal  end  of  poesy,  to  inform  men  in  the  best  way  of  living, " 
and  characterizes  the  true  poet  as  one  that  is  "able  to  inform  young  men  to  all  good 
discipline,  inflame  grown  men  to  all  great  virtues,  keep  old  men  in  their  best  and 
supreme  state that  comes  forth  the  interpreter  and  arbiter  of  na- 
ture, a  teacher  of  things  di\4ne  no  less  than  human,  a  master  in  manners".  Cowley 
begins    his    poem    "The    Resurrection": 

Not   winds   to   voyagers   at   sea 

Nor  showers  to  earth  more  necessary  be 

Than    verse    to    virtue. 
^  See  Haslewood's  Introd.  Mirror  for  Magistrates,  vol.  i,  p.  iv. 

*  Haslewood,  ii,  5.  The  printer  regards  the  book  as  a  lantern  having  sufficient 
light  to  guide  "wandering  steps  both  into  the  happiness  of  this  world  and  of  the  world 
to    come". 


114  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

the  aim  of  instructing  their  readers  in  the  wisdom  of  the  ancients.  Ar- 
thur Golding  afBrms  that  one  of  his  purposes  in  translating  Ovid's 
Metamorphoses  is  to  afford  his  EngUsh  readers  "good  instruction,"  and 
he  recommends  the  work  as  "fraughted  inwardly  with  most  pithy- 
instructions  and  wholesome  examples,  and  containing  both  ways  most 
exquisite  cunning  and  deep  knowledge."     Readers  must  reduce  "the 

sense  that  paynims  do  express to  right  of  Christian  law" 

and  then,  properly  interpreted,  his  poet  will  afford  "instructions  which 
import  the  praise  of  virtues,  and  the  shame  of  vices,  with  due  rewards  of 
either  of  the  same."^ 

Ascham  deplores  the  abuse  of  the  custom  of  "honest  titles"  and  over 
bold  dedications  "to  virtuous  and  honorable  personages"  by  which 
means  English  readers  are  beguiled  into  reading  "fond  books,"  es- 
pecially those  of  Italy.^  Though  in  general  a  staunch  advocate  of  the 
culture  of  the  ancients,  he  thinks  that  ignorance  of  the  subject-matter  of 
Plautus  and  Terence  "  were  better  for  a  civil  gentlemen  than  knowledge.  "^ 
To  such  writers  as  Gascoigne  and  Whetstone  more  liberal  views  were 
acceptable,  and  educational  values  were  given  wide  application.  Whet- 
stone honors  Plautus  and  Terence  and  in  general  maintains  upon  Plato's 
authority  that  "naughtiness  comes  of  the  corruption  of  nature,  and  not 
by  reading  or  hearing  the  lives  of  the  good  or  lewd."  As  it  is  put  in 
Davison's  Poetical  Rhapsody. 

The  bee  and  spider  by  a  diverse  power, 

Suck  honey  and  poison  from  the  selfsame  flower. 

Any  kind  of  action  "grave  or  lascivious"  may  be  presented  with  good 
effect.  Whetstone  thinks,  if  "the  conclusion  shows  the  confusion  of  vice 
and  the  cherishing  of  virtue.  "^  In  putting  forth  his  Rock  of  Regard,  a 
book  made  up  in  part  of  Italian  stories,  he  is  apparently  anxious  to 
anticipate  such  objections  as  Ascham  had  made  and,  affirming  his  general 
"well  meaning,"  he  assures  his  reader  that  he  "may  here  find  rules  his 
life  for  to  direct."  George  Gascoigne,  citing  the  text:  "All  that  is 
written  is  written  for  our  instruction,"  writes  similarly  in  behalf  of  his 

^  Ded.     Transl.     Ovid. 

'  Ascham 's  religious  prejudice  is  manifest  here;  the  books  were  objectionable  as 
tending  "not  so  much  to  corrupt  honest  living  as  they  do  to  subvert  true  religion. 
More  papists  be  made  by  your  merry  books  of  Italy  than  by  your  earnest  books  of 
Louain"     (Smith,    i,     3). 

^  Schoolmaster,   Smith,   i,    28. 

*  Ded.  Promus  and  Cassandra,  Smith,  i,  59,  60. 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  115 

work,  exhorting  the  young  gentlemen  of  England  to  profit  by  his  example 
as  shown  in  his  Posies  and  to  run  not  upon  the  rocks  that  have  brought 
him  to  shipwreck.^ 

Lodge  lays  great  stress  upon  the  educational  value  of  poetry.  Mar- 
veling at  the  ignorance  of  Gosson,  who  though  "brought  up  in  the 
University"  absurdly  dispraises  the  art,  he  discredits  his  folly  by  the 
opinion  of  Erasmus,  who  makes  poetry  "  the  pathway  to  knowledge.' '  In 
fulfilling  their  purpose,  "to  draw  men  to  wisdom,"  poets  become  "the 
very  footpaths  to  knowledge  and  understanding."^"^  "Ill  writers," 
"poets  that  savor  of  ribaldry,"  to  be  sure,  disgrace  the  art,  and  Lodge 
exhorts  Gosson  to  turn  his  energies  to  the  "expulsion  of  such  enormities" 
and  the  correcting  of  abuses — and  this  Gosson  tells  us  later  was  his 
motive  in  writing.  A  further  point  in  Lodge's  view,  and  perhaps  a 
rather  significant  one,  is  the  fact  that  he  seems  impressed  with  the 
didactic  possibiHties — yet  unrealized  in  England — of  poetic  satire. 
Poets,  he  affirms,  were  the  first  "disturbers  of  the  wicked";  and  a  poet's 
wit  can  correct  without  offending,  the  correction  of  sin  being  mitigated 
by  his  reproving  it  "covertly  in  shadows."  Or  more  openly,  Chaucer, 
for  example,  "in  pleasant  vein  can  rebuke  sin  uncontrolled."^^  Lodge 
deplores  the  lack  in  his  own  time  of  satirical  poets  who  might  decipher 
abuses  and  thereby — as  was  attempted  later — "rid  our  assembUes"  of 
many  of  the  brotherhood  of  Gosson.^^ 

'  Complete  Poems,  Hazlitt,  pp.  12,  13. 
»"  Smith,    i,    66,    75. 
"76.,  69,  75,  82. 

12  lb.,  82.  Edward  Hake  in  dedicating  his  News  out  of  Paul's  Churchyard  (1579) 
(see  Isham  Reprints,  No.  2)   thus  versiiies: 

For  that  same  explains  the  present  state, 

And  sets  to  view  the  vices  of  the  time 

In  novel  verse  and  satire's  sharp  effect, 

Still  drawn  along  and  penned  in  pleasant  rime, 

For   sole   intent   good   Uving   to   erect 

And  sin  rescind  which  rifely  reigns  abroad 

In  people's  hearts  full  fraught  with  sinful  load. 

A  "thankless  task"  Hall  finds  such  work  (Prol.  Satire  I) — 

Go  daring  muse,  on  with  thy  thankless  task, 
And  do  the  ugly  face  of  vice  unmask — 

as  likewise  does  Richard  Robinson,  but  both  espouse  it  as  did  Donne  and  earlier 
Gascoigne.  Robinson  in  spite  of  disdain  or  danger  will  not  cause  his  "pen  to  stay  one 
drop  of  ink  from  painting  the  praise  of  the  virtuous,  or  telling  the  troth  to  the  tyrant, 


116  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

The  educational  function  of  poetry  is  set  forth  with  strong  enthusiasm 
by  Sir  Phihp  Sidney.  The  early  poets,  he  declares,  are  to  be  regarded  as 
"fathers  in  learning."  Poetry  "hath  been  the  first  light-giver  to 
ignorance";  with  its  "charming  sweetness"  it  has  power  to  draw  "wild 
untamed  wits  to  an  admiration  of  knowledge."  The  pleasant  exercise 
of  the  mind  "with  the  sweet  delights  of  poetry,"  he  suggests,  might  be  a 
means  of  softening  and  sharpening  the  "hard  dull  wits"  of  the  "barbar- 
ous and  simple  Indians"  and  of  introducing  learning  among  them.^' 
He  utterly  denies  "that  there  is  sprung  out  of  the  earth  a  more  fruitful 
knowledge,"  and  conjures  his  reader,  half  seriously,  to  believe  with 
Clauserus  that  under  the  veil  of  poet's  fables  have  been  given  "all 
knowledge,  logic,  rhetoric,  philosophy,  natural  and  moral."" 

"In  moral  doctrine,  the  chief  of  all  knowledges,"  the  poet  far  sur- 
passes the  historian,  for  he  not  only  furnishes  the  mind  with  more  perfect 
knowledge,  but  impels  it  to  shun  evil  and  to  accept  and  follow  things 
that  are  good.  He  teaches  "by  a  divine  delightfulness, "  and  in  its 
vividness  and  charm  his  work  possesses  much  "more  force  in  teaching" 
than  the  "regular  instruction  of  philosophy."'^  Indeed,  this  "setting 
forward  and  moving  to  well  doing"  places  the  laurel  crown  upon  the  poet 
as  victorious  over  historian  and  philosopher  in  the  noble  work  of  teaching 

by  familiar  examples  of  the  other  evil  disposed  persons  as  a  caveat  to  warn  the  wicked, 
and  to  encourage  the  godly  to  persist  in  virtue"  {Golden  Mirror,  1589).  Cp.  Ben 
Jonson    {Ode   to   Himself): 

And  since  our  dainty  age 
Cannot  endure  reproof, 
Make  not  thyself  a  page 
To  that  strumpet  the  stage; 
But  sing  high  and  aloof, 
Safe  from  the  wolf's  black  jaw 
And  the  dull  ass's  hoof. 

And  Shakespeare's  Poet  {Timon  of  Athens,  I,  i,  45): 

My  free  drift 
Halts    not    particularly,    but    moves    itself 
In  a  wide  sea  of  wax:  no  leveled  malice 
Infects  one  comma  in   the  course  I  hold; 
But  flies  an  eagle  flight,  bold  and  forth  on, 
Leaving  no  tract  behind. 

^"^  Apology,   Smith,   i,    151,    153. 

"76.,  206.     Cp.  Nash:  "There  is  no  study,  but  it  doth  illustrate  and  beautify" 
{Works,    McKerrow,    i,    193). 
« lb.,     166. 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  117 

men.  Since  "consideration  of  men's  manners"  is  the  "supreme  know- 
ledge" and  "virtuous  action"  is  the  "end  of  all  earthly  learning,"  the 
final  aim  of  learning  being  "  to  lead  and  draw  us  to  as  high  a  perfection 
as  our  degenerate  souls,  made  worse  by  their  clayey  lodgings,  can  be 
capable  of," — then  "no  learning  is  so  good  as  that  which  teacheth  and 
moveth  to  virtue,"  and  poetry,  whose  end  is  "delightful  teaching," 
being  "the  most  familiar  to  teach  it,  and  most  princely  to  move  towards 
it,"  becomes  the  "noblest  scope  to  which  ever  any  learning  was  di- 
rected. "i« 

AIL  this  possesses  more  breadth  and  truth  than  most  modern  critics 
are  wilhng  to  accord  it.  In  order  to  value  Sidney's  views  at  their  true 
worth  we  must  divest  ourselves  of  the  profound  influence  of  a  period 
that  Sidney  did  not  live  to  see — and  that  is  impossible.  Genuine  unifica- 
tion of  ethical  and  esthetic  values,  so  easy  and  natural  to  his  thought,  is  a 
rare  accomplishment  in  post-renaissance  thinking.  Virtue  to  Sidney  did 
not  connote  hardness  and  plainness,  but  gentleness  and  beauty;  its  path 
was  a  path  not  of  thorns  but  of  roses.  The  esthetic  aspect  is  what  chiefly 
appealed  to  him;  in  virtue  there  ever  lurked  witchery  and  charm,  "in  her 

best  colors one  must  needs  be  enamored  of  her. ""     Her 

fruits  were  fruits  of  joy  and  gladness  and  her  ways  the  delightsome  ways 
of  beauty  and  poetry, — 

For  all  that's  good  is  beautiful  and  fair.^* 

Spenser  was  declared  by  Milton  to  be  "a  better  teacher  than  Scotus 
or  Aquinas, "  and  he  held  prestige  on  similar  grounds  among  his  contem-       ) 
poraries.     From  a  letter^^  by  his  friend  Bryskett  we  learn  that  he  was     / 
held  in  high  regard  for  his  attainments  in  philosophy,  though  he  pre-        » 
ferred  to  impart  his  knowledge  as  a  poet.     Bryskett  and  several  other 
gentlemen  in  company  made  an  earnest  and  ceremonious  request  that 
Spenser  should  yield  them  a  general  exposition  of  moral  philosophy, 
declaring  its  principles  and  benefits  and  the  parts  "  whereby  virtues  are 
to  be  distinguished  from  vices. "     Replying  to  this  entreaty,  "  every  man 
applauding  most  with  like  words  of  request,"  Spenser  courteously  begs 
to  be  excused,  inasmuch  as  he  has  "already  undertaken  a  work  tending  to 
the  same  effect,  which  is  in  heroical  verse  under  the  title  of  a  Faery  Queen 
to  represent  all  the  moral  virtues,  assigning  to  every  virtue  a  knight  to  be 

"76.,  159,  161. 

"76.,  170. 

**  Spenser,  Hymn  of  Heavenly  Beauty. 

^  See    Spenser,    Globe   ed.,    p.    xxxiv. 


118  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

the  patron  and  defender  of  the  same,  in  whose  actions  and  feats  of  arms 
and  chivalry  the  operations  of  that  virtue,  whereof  he  is  the  protector, 
are  to  be  expressed,  and  the  vices  and  unruly  appetites  that  oppose 
themselves  against  the  same,  to  be  beaten  down  and  overcome."  The 
answer  to  their  request  then,  "containing  in  effect  the  ethic  part  of  moral 
philosophy,"  Spenser  tells  them  is  to  be  found  in  his  poem  where  he  has 
"taken  in  hand  to  discourse  at  large "  upon  this  subject.  The  didactic 
motive  of  the  Faery  Queen  is  also  avowed  by  Spenser  in  his  prefatory 
letter  to  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  in  which  he  declares  that  his  object  was  to 
portray  "in  Arthur  before  he  was  king,  the  image  of  a  brave  knight, 
perfected  in  the  twelve  private  moral  virtues."  If  the  first  twelve 
books  embodying  this  motive  should  be  "well  accepted,"  he  would 
perhaps  be  "encouraged  to  frame  the  other  part  of  politic  virtues"  in 
Arthur's  "person,  after  he  came  to  be  king."  "The  general  end  there- 
fore of  all  the  book  is  to  fashion  a  gentleman  or  noble  person  in  virtuous 
and  gentle  discipline" — an  aim  reflected  in  the  numerous  courtesy  and 
culture  books  of  the  time,  an  aim  which  would  have  been  applauded  by 
Sidney,  and  which,  in  general,  was  in  accord  with  the  aspirations  of  an 
age  that  found  in  the  noble  Sir  Philip  its  pattern  of  excellence. 

Spenser  has  been  reproached — in  our  generation,  not  his  own^" — for 
failing  to  realize  his  ethical  professions.^^    Indeed,  his  general  didactic  or 

=°  Gabriel  Harvey  ("Third  Letter"  [1592];  Smith,  ii,  234)  extols  Spenser  and  Sid- 
ney as  examples  for  Robert  Greene,  exhorting  Greene  to  "be  a  divine  poet  indeed; 
and  use  heavenly  eloquence  indeed;  and  employ  thy  golden  talent  with  amounting 
usance  indeed;  and  with  heroical  cantos  honor  right  virtue,  and  brave  valor  indeed; 
as  noble  Sir  Philip  Sidney  and  gentle  Master  Spenser  have  done,  with  immortal  fame".' 
In  even  more  extravagant  terms  Harvey  {Pierce's  Supererogation;  Smith,  ii,  263-5) 
praises  the  virtues  of  Sidney's  Arcadia;  against  which  praise,  as  expressing  the  point  of 
view  of  another  generation,  may  be  placed  the  words  of  Milton,  "that  vain  amatori- 
ous  poem  of  Sir  Philip  Sidney's  Arcadia",  "not  to  be  read  at  any  time  without  good 
caution", — but  which,  as  Milton  protests,  Charles  I  made  use  of  on  the  scaiJold. 

^'  The  following  lines  from  the  epilogue  of  the  Shepherd 's  Calendar  should  also  be 

noted: 

Lo!    I   have   made   a    Calendar 

To  teach  the  ruder  shepherd  how  to  feed  his  sheep, 

And  from  the  falser 's  fraud  his  folded  flock  to  keep. 

E.  K.  lays  stress  on  the  didactic  purport  of  the  Calendar,  commenting  on  its  "moral 

wiseness"  and  on  the  fact  that  the  author  "seemeth to  unfold  great 

matter  of  argument  covertly"  and  classing  five  of  the  twelve  eclogues  as  "moral, 

which  for  the  most  part  be  mixed  with  some  satirical  bitterness".     Webbe  also  finds 

in  Spenser's  eclogues  "many  good  moral  lessons"  (Smith,  i,  264).     Puttenham  (Smith, 

ii,  40)  regards  the  eclogue  as  a  form  for  "moral  discipHne"  and  the  "amendment  of 

man's  behavior". 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  119 

cultural  purpose  as  conceived  and  executed  in  the  Faery  Queen  is  perhaps 
quite  as  much  esthetic  as  ethical.  His  ethical  sense,  pre-puritan  and  of 
the  Renaissance  like  that  of  Sidney,  was  insensibly  fused  with  his  esthetic 
sense,  the  two  being  one  and  inseparable.  Differentiating  his  work  from 
that  of  low  and  rude  rimesters  and  elevating  it  by  its  vastly  superior 
cultural  and  spiritual  qualities,  he  sets  forth  his  ideals  of  life  essentially 
embodied  in  forms  of  beauty, — 

For  all  that  fair  is,  is  by  nature  good; 
That  is  a  sign  to  know  the  gentle  blood.^- 

The  didactic  function  of  poetry  is  strongly  emphasized  by  Webbe,  as 
might  be  expected  in  view  of  his  pedagogical  experience.  Chaucer's 
works  he  commends  "for  delight  and  profitable  knowledge. "  In  Homer, 
he  asserts,  may  be  perceived  "what  the  right  use  of  poetry  is:  which 
indeed  is  to  mingle  profit  with  pleasure,  and  so  to  delight  the  reader  with 
pleasantness  of  his  art,  as  in  the  meantime  his  mind  may  be  well  in-  ^-^ 
structed  with  knowledge  and  wisdom. "^^  The  "very  ground  of  right 
poetry"  is  "to  give  profitable  counsel,"  "profitable  and  pleasant  lessons 

for  the  instruction  of  life.  "^*    Even  wanton  and  dissolute 

poems  may  furnish  "wise  and  circumspect  readers"  with  "very  many 
profitable  lessons,"  and  by  wary  and  skillful  reading  "good  lessons"  may 
be  found  in  the  very  worst.  Ovid's  "most  wanton  books,"  for  instance, 
Webbe  agrees  with  Elyot,  may  afford  the  "heedful  reader"  "very  many 
pithy  and  wise  sentences,"  though  such  works  should  be  prohibited  from 
young  minds.^^  It  is  Webbe's  charitable  opinion  that  "  the  wantonest  poets 

of  all,  in  their  most  lascivious  works sought  rather  by  that 

means  to  withdraw  men's  minds  (especially  the  best  natures)  from  such 
foul  vices  than  to  allure  them  to  embrace  such  beastly  follies  as  they 

^^  Hymn  in  Honor  of  Beauty.    Cp.  Keats:  "Beauty  is  truth,  truth  beauty". 

^'  Discourse,  Smith,  i,  234.  Webbe  would  e\adently  agree  with  Meres  that  "poetry 
doth  most  deUght  which  is  mixt  with  philosophy — Plutarchus"  {PaUadis  Tamia, 
Smith,   ii,   309). 

"^Ih.,     250,     251. 

^  lb.,  254.  Nash,  likewise,  would  restrain  youth  from  reading  ribaldry,  and 
wishes  it  understood  that  in  praising  poetry  he  does  not  approve  of  anything  unchaste 
or  obscene  even  in  Virgil  or  Ovid;  yet,  using  the  popular  bee  simile,  as  "out  of  the  bitter- 
est flowers  and  sharpest  thistles"  honey  is  gathered,  so,  he  thinks  with  Webbe,  "out 
of  the  filthiest  fables  may  profitable  knowledge  be  sucked  and  selected",  though 
spiders,  on  the  other  hand,  "suck  poison  out  of  the  honeycomb  and  corruption  out  of 
the  holiest  things".  "The  fables  of  poets",  he  declares  further,  "must  of  necessity 
be  fraught  with  wisdom  and  knowledge"  (Smith,  i,  329,  332). 


120  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

detected."-®  Nothing,  he  thinks,  is  more  to  be  desired  than  the  "sweet 
alhirements  to  virtues  and  commodious  caveats  from  vices,  of  which 
poetry  is  exceeding  plentiful."'^  Spenser's  covert  reprehension  of 
abuses  and  Chaucer's  learned  and  happy  manner  of  girding  at  vices  are 
especially  pleasing  to  Webbe,  who  like  some  other  critics  of  the  time 
shows  a  disposition  to  welcome  satire. 

Puttenham's  enumeration  of  the  various  kinds  of  subjects  to  be 
\t.        \  ^^^^^^^  i^  poetry  assumes  for  the  most  part  didactic  intent.     He  insists 
\<\^     /that  poetry  should  not  be  "employed  upon  any  unworthy  matter  and 
^  subject,  nor  used  to  vain  purposes,"  as  in  uttering  vicious  or  foolish 

conceits  "of  no  good  example  and  doctrine";  but  he  admits  as  subject- 
matter  practically  anything  for  "necessary  use  of  the  present  time,  or 
good  instruction  of  posterity";  among  other  subjects,  "the  revealing  of 
sciences  natural  and  other  profitable  arts"  "for  instruction  of  the  people 
and  increase  of  knowledge, "  "  the  praise  of  virtue  and  reproof  of  vice,  the 
instruction  of  moral  doctrines. "  Poetry,  he  believes,  should  feign  good 
examples  for  men  to  put  into  use,  and  should  report  "for  the  common 
benefit,"  as  "poesy  historical,"  "the  famous  acts  of  princes  and  the 
virtuous  and  worthy  lives  of  our  forefathers.  "^  It  happily  has  forms  for 
reprehension  of  "the  common  abuses  of  man's  life"  and  "the  evil  and 
outrageous  behavior  of  princes,"  and  for  the  commendation  of  "virtue 
in  the  inferior  sort"  and  in  "great  princes. "^^  But  though  Puttenham 
attaches  much  importance  to  ethical  values,  he  deprecates  the  limitations 
of  ethical  narrowness;  Gower,  for  instance,  is  to  be  commended  "for  his 

^  Cp.  Lodge  {Works,  Hunterian  Club,  iv,  p.  4) : 

For  sure  the  vice  that  they  did  lay  in  sight, 
Was  for  to  make  it  grow  in  more  despite. 

^  Smith,  i,  251,  252.     The  poet's  "only  pride",  according  to  Spenser  in  his  Mother 
Hubberd  's    Tale, 

Is    virtue    to    advance    and    vice    deride. 

Cp.  Hamlet  (III,  ii,  23) :  "The  purpose  of  playing,  whose  end,  both  at  the  first  and  now, 
was  and  is,  to  hold,  as  'twere,  the  mirror  up  to  nature;  to  show  virtue  her  own  feature, 
scorn  her  own  image".     Lodge  says  of  poetic  art  [Fig  for  Momus,  op.  cit.,  iii,  61): 

But   clothing   virtue   and   adorning   it, 
Wit  shines  in  virtue,  virtue  shines  in  wit; 
True  science  suited  in  well-couched  rimes. 
Is  nourished  for  fame  in  after  times. 

»  Art  of  English  Poesy,  Smith,  ii,  25,  40,  46. 

»76.,   31,   34,   36,   44. 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  121 

good  and  grave  moralities,"  but  he  is  deficient  in  that  otherwise  he  "had 
nothing  in  him  highly  to  be  commended."^" 

Sir  John  Harington  terms  poetry  the  "grandmother  of  all  learning" 
and  insists  that  "there  are  many  good  lessons  to  be  learned  out  of  it." 
He  does  not  give  poetry  as  high  a  place  as  does  Sidney  "  in  respect  of 
the  high  end  of  all,  which  is  the  health  of  our  own  souls. "  For  this  end, 
he  thinks,  "not  only  poetry  but  all  other  studies  of  philosophy  are  in  a 
manner  vain  and  superfluous,"  though  for  the  "profounder  studies"  of 
divinity  and  the  Holy  Scriptures  poetry  affords  the  best  kind  of  prepara- 
tion. Heroic  poetry,  the  highest  and  stateliest  form  and  least  infected 
with  wantonness,  will  make  men  "wiser  and  honester"  and,  by  virtue  of 
its  power  to  "erect  the  mind  and  lift  it  up  to  the  consideration  of  the 
highest  matters, "  is  especially  to  be  recommended  as  a  most  meet  study 
for  young  men.^^  Poetry  may  be  subject  to  abuse  in  such  forms  as  the 
pastoral  and  sonnet,  but  "though  many  times  they  savor  of  wantonness 
and  love  and  toying,  and,  now  and  then  breaking  the  rules  of  poetry,  go 
into  plain  scurrility,  yet  even  the  worst  of  them  may  not  be  ill  applied, 
and  are,  I  must  confess,  too  delightful.  "^^  With  respect  to  his  own 
Ariosto,  Harington  gives  his  readers  the  caveat  to  read  "lascivious" 
parts  "as  my  author  meant  them,  to  breed  detestation  and  not  delecta- 
tion. "  In  further  justification  of  his  author  he  makes  an  interesting 
application  of  the  doctrine  of  decorum,  an  application  that  others  with 
Harington  had  felt  the  need  of  in  vindication  of  an  agreeable  realism. 
"There  is  so  meet  a  decorum,"  he  declares,  "in  the  persons  of  those 
that    speak    lasciviously,    as    any    judgment    must    allow."     Chaucer 

"  incurreth  far  more  the  reprehension  of  flat  scurrility in 

which  only  the  decorum  he  keeps  is  that  that  excuseth  it  and  maketh  it 
more  tolerable.  "^^ 

Daniel  and  Chapman,  the  one  as  "historian  in  verse,"  the  other  as 
translator,  both  strongly  assert  the  didactic  intent  of  their  work.     The 

3°  76.,  64. 

3>  Pref.  Orlando  Furioso,  Smith,  ii,  197,  198. 

'2/6.,  209. 

^  lb.,  214,  215.     Hawes  (see  Percy  Soc,  xviii,  p.  53),  classing  Chaucei  with  "moral 
Gower",  does  not  feel  the  need  of  such  excuse: 

As    moral    Gower,    whose    sententious   dew 
Adown    reflareth    with    fair    golden    beams, 
And  after   Chaucer's  all   abroad   doth   shew, 
Our   vices   to   cleanse;    his   departed   streams 
Kindling   our   hearts   with   the   fiery   lemes 
Of  moral   virtue. 


122  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

"argument"  of  the  Civil  Wars,  Daniel  affirms,  was  undertaken  "with  a 
purpose  to  show  the  deformities  of  civil  dissensions,  and  the  miserable 
events  of  rebellions,  conspiracies,  and  bloody  revengements  "^* — a 
patriotic  ethical  aim  akin  to  that  of  the  famous  Mirror  for  Magistrates.^^ 
Chapman,  deprecating  the  low  versifying  of  his  own  day,  exalts  the 
heroic  qualities  of  Homer  as  vastly  superior  and  exhorts  readers  to  seek 
in  the  Odyssey  the  sense  and  allegory,  "which  is  the  soul"  and  "which 
intends  a  more  eminent  expressure  of  virtue  for  her  loveliness,  and  of  vice 
for  her  ugliness,"^®  Homer,  in  general,  "hath  his  chief  holiness  of 
estimation  for  matter  and  instruction";  "counselors  have  never  better 
oracles  than  his  lines,  fathers  have  no  morals  so  profitable  for  their 
children  as  his  counsels.  "^^ 

The  conception  of  the  didactic  function  of  poetry,  strongly  intrenched 
since  the  middle  ages  and  in  a  measure  re-inforced  by  the  reformation, 
was  evidently  much  broadened  and  liberalized  by  the  influences  of 
classical  and  renaissance  literature.  In  their  esteem  for  the  poetry  of 
the  ancients,  some  of  the  critics — either  by  a  charitable  view  of  the  poet's 
intentions  which  threw  the  stigma  of  unethical  construction  upon  the 
reader,  or  by  a  convenient  extension  of  the  doctrine  of  decorum — made 
bold  to  declare  the  instructional  import  and  value  of  the  work  of  even 

^*  Works,  ii,  6.  Daniel's  poem,  only  one  of  a  number  of  long  versified  historical 
or  didactic  works  of  the  time,  was  criticised  in  his  own  day  for  its  prosaic  character. 
Spenser,  however,  in  a  letter  to  Harvey  promised  a  long  poem,  which  he  dares  "  under- 
take will  be  very  profitable  for  the  knowledge",  of  material  even  more  pedestrian 
than  Daniel's.     He  was  to  describe  the  Thames  and  contiguous  country  and  "all  of 

the  rivers  throughout  England"  —  "a  work of  much  labor",  to  be 

furthered  by  consulting  the  researches  of  Master  Holinshed   (Smith,  i,   100).     Cp. 
Warner's   Albion's   Englatid   and   Drayton's   Polyolbion. 
^^  Cp.    also    Prologue    Henry    VIII: 

Such    as    give 
Their  money  out  of  hope  they  may  believe, 

May     here     find     truth 

Think    ye    see 
The   very  persons   of   our  noble   story 
As  they  were  living;  think  you  see  them  great, 
And  follow 'd  with  the  general  throng  and  sweat 
Of  thousand  friends;  then,  in  a  moment,  see 
How  soon  this  mightiness  meets  misery. 

3«Epist.    Ded.,    Works    (1875),    ii,    237. 

'^  Pref.  Iliad,  Smith,  ii,  300,  306.  Cp.  Elyot:  "There  is  no  lesson  for  a  young 
gentleman  to  be  compared  with  Homer",  whose  works  contain  "incomparable  wisdoms, 
and  instructions  for  politic  governance  of  people"  {Governor,  Bk.  I,  chap,  x,  pp.  58,  60. 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  123 

the  most  questionable  authors.  This,  however,  was  done  with  cautious 
qualifications,  for  in  such  a  doctrine  kirked  danger;  and  the  critics  were 
united  in  strongest  condemnation  of  the  immoral  perversions  of  the  art 
of  poetry  by  irresponsible  contemporary  rimesters.  Indeed,  it  is  clear 
that  emphasis  upon  the  high  didactic  function  of  poetry  is  often  impelled 
by  a  desire  to  discredit  the  work  of  such  men  and  differentiate  it  from 
that  of  real  poets.^^  In  other  words,  when  the  demoralization  and 
disintegration  of  poetry  was  threatened  by  the  participation  in  the  art  of 
a  multitude  of  reckless  and  profligate  poetasters,  critics  naturally  sought 
by  emphasizing  the  didactic  values  of  poetry  in  the  hands  of  true  poets  to 
protect  and  save  it  as  an  art. 

The  insistence  on  the  didactic  value  of  poetry,  however,  was  clearly 
based  upon  broad  and  genuine  moral  and  cultural  enthusiasm.  Critics 
in  the  days  of  Elizabeth  felt  that  poetry  might  be  a  powerful  force  in  the 
life  of  the  nation;  if  abused  a  force  for  evil,  but  potentially  a  repository  of 
highest  ideals  and  possessing  tremendous  possibilities  for  good.  If  the 
art  could  be  saved  from  perversion  it  might  be  made  highly  efficacious  as 
a  means  by  which  Englishmen  could  avail  themselves  of  the  best  in 
renaissance  culture  and  without  moral  detriment  extend  their  intellectual 
and  spiritual  horizon.  Protected  from  moral  degradation  and  decadence 
while  being  developed  in  power  and  beauty  of  artistic  expression,  poetry 
might  become  at  once  a  most  potent  instrument  for  cultural  advancement 
and  for  the  preservation  of  moral  integrity.  Didactic  and  ethical  values, 
moreover,  were  more  poetical  to  the  average  pre-puritan  Elizabethan 
than  has  been  possible  since,  and  in  the  idealistic  temper  of  the  age, 
reformation  and  renaissance  influences  being  not  yet  divorced,  men  of 

^  Among  others  Bishop  Hall,  the  satirist,  reprehends  the  ribaldry,  vulgarity,  and 
"lewd  liberty"  of  English  poets  of  the  time  (Bk.  I,  Satire  IX).  Verses  expressing  an 
ideal  of  a  "perfect  poet"  —  reminding  one  of  Milton's  saying  that  a  poet  "ought 
himself  to  be  a  true  poem;  that  is,  a  composition  and  pattern  of  the  best  and  most 
honorable  things"  —  are  quoted  from  the  Mirror  for  Magistrates  in  England's  Par- 
nassus: 

For  who  that  will  a  perfect  poet  be, 
He  must  be  bred  out  of  Medusae's  blood, 
He  must  be  chaste  and  virtuous  as  was  she, 
Who  to  her  power  the  ocean-god  withstood. 
To  th'  end  also  his  doom  be  just  and  good, 
He  must,  as  she,  look  rightly  with  one  ej-e, 
Truth  to  regard,  ne  write  one  thing  awry. 

Ben  Jonson  (Ded.  Votpone)  also  asserts  the  "impossibility  of  any  man's  being  the  good 
poet,  without  first  being  a  good  man." 


124  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

letters,  exalting  poetry  and  in  chivalric  spirit  associating  with  it  a  lofty- 
ethical  tone,  felt  no  conflict  between  idealized  didactic  purpose  and 
entire  freedom  in  the  use  of  beautiful  imagery  and  expression.  In  their 
liberalized  didacticism,  which  ethically  idealized  the  poetry  of  the  an- 
cients yet  fought  jealously  against  the  moral  perversion  of  poetry  by  the 
moderns;  and  in  their  moralized  estheticism,  which  in  a  worshipful  spirit 
of  esthetic  and  moral  idealism  exalted  the  unity  of  beauty  and  truth,  the 
critics  saw  in  poetry  at  its  best  the  strongest  possible  agency  for  the 
intellectual  and  spiritual  development  of  men. 

V.  The  Esthetic  Function  of  Poetry 

The  English  sense  of  beauty  notably  manifested  in  the  poetry  of  the 
age  of  Elizabeth  also  found  expression  from  the  beginning  of  the  period  in 
critical  appreciation  of  artistic  excellence  and  in  recognition  of  the  high 
importance  of  the  esthetic  function  of  poetic  art.  Queen  Elizabeth 
herself  doubtless  exerted  a  strong  influence  in  furtherance  of  this  aspect 
of  poetry,  not  only  because  of  the  chivalric  and  romantic  sentiment  that 
invested  her  as  a  center  of  poetic  inspiration,  but  also,  as  her  learned  tutor 
Ascham  proudly  afl&rms,  because  she  possessed  a  refined  taste  and  delicate 
appreciation  of  the  beauties  of  literature,  her  penetrating  judgment 
accurately  discriminating  between  bad  and  good,  "immediately  rejecting 
the  one  with  disgust  and  receiving  the  other  with  highest  delight."^ 
With  the  growing  cultural  activity  of  the  period,  authors,  printers, 
and  critics  give  increasing  attention  to  the  artistic  merits  and  the  pleasure- 
giving  function  of  poetry.  Arthur  Golding,  though  a  puritanic 
spirit  and  recommending  his  translation  of  Ovid  as  morally  edifying,  also 
extols  its  esthetic  values,  finding  it  "a  work  very  pleasant  and  delect- 
able," "containing  fine  inventions  to  delight,"  and  in  consideration  of 
its  beauty  expressing  his  belief  that 

A  plain  or  naked  tale  or  story  simply  told 

Makes  not  the  hearer  so  attent  to  print  it  in  his  heart. 
As  when  the  thing  is  well  declared,  with  pleasant  terms  and 
art.2 

Covert  allegory  is  to  Golding  as  to  others^  not  only  a  source  of  ethical 
benefit  but  also  of  esthetic  dehght;  just  as  the  body  has  "joy  in  pleasant 

'  Whole  Works,  i,  i,  192. 
^  Pref.   to   Reader. 

^  Gascoigne  and  Puttenham  speak  of  allegory  as  a  sort  of  figure,  regarding  it  as  an 
esthetic  device,   ornamental  and  pleasure-giving.     The   recognition  of  an   esthetic 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  125 

smells  and  sights"  so  the  mind  takes  delight  in  the  abundant  hoards 
packed  in  poetry  and  skillfully  hidden  from  all  but  a  few.  Thomas  Phaer 
gives  as  one  of  the  purposes  of  his  translation  of  Virgil  (1555)  the  "honest 
recreation"  of  the  nobility-^  George  Turbervile  offers  his  gentle  reader 
a  few  sonnets  "to  pleasure  and  recreate  thy  weary  mind  and  troubled 
head  withal."^  The  Gorgeous  Gallery  of  Gallant  Inventions  (1578), 
"right  delicate  and  delightful," 

Wherein  you  may  to  recreate  the  mind, 
Such  fine  inventions  find  for  your  delight, 

is  especially  commended  by  A.  M.  to  all  young  gentlemen  as  a  "gallery 
of  delights"  with  "dainties  deckt"  in  hope  to  please  their  "longing 
minds. "®  Thomas  Churchyard  boldly  recommends  poetry  for  the  giving 
of  pleasure,  commending  his  "Light  Bundle  of  lively  discourses  called 
Churchyard's  Charge"  (1580),  "set  forth  as  a  piece  of  pastime,"  as 
"delightful  to  the  reader.  "'^  Clement  Robinson  puts  forth  A  Handful  of 
Pleasant  Delights  (1584),  and  R.  S.  The  Phoenix  Nest  (1593),  "full 
of singular  delight."  Nicholas  Breton  frankly  adver- 
tises his  Toys  of  an  Idle  Head  (1582)  as  "very  pleasant  and  delectable  to' 
pass  away  idle  time  withal,"^  and  the  title  of  his  Bower  of  Bliss,  like 
many  poetic  titles  of  the  time,  expresses  esthetic  motive  and  appeal. 
Compared  with  these  recommendations  of  the  delights  of  poetry. 
Sir  Philip  Sidney's  observations  are  much  more  deeply  significant.  His 
conception  of  esthetic  values  in  poetry  attaches  great  importance  to  the 
power  of  the  art  in  the  lives  of  men  through  its  appeal  to  the  emotions. 
This  view,  it  appears,  results  not  only  from  his  thinking  but  as  well  from 
his  experience  as  a  poet.  The  usual  procedure  of  "turning  other's 
leaves"    for   inspiration,    "studying   inventions   fine,"    proving   vain, 

"Fool,"  said  my  Muse  to  me,  "look  in  thy  heart  and  write.  "^ 

as  well  as  ethical  value  in  allegory  by  men  of  letters  under  remaissance  influence,  is  an 
interesting  manifestation  of  their  sense  of  the  intimate  relationship  of  these  two 
values  in  life   and  art. 

*  Warton's  Hist.  Eng.  Poetry,  iv,  221. 

^  To  the  Reader;  Epitaphs,  Epigrams,  Songs  and  Sonnets,  etc.  (1567);  Collier's 
Reprints,  v.  Painter  recommends  the  stories  in  his  Palace  of  Pleasure  as  profitable 
and  also  "pleasant  they  be,  for  that  they  recreate  and  refresh  wearied  minds". 

'  Heliconia,   p.   ix. 

^  Collier's  Reprints,  vi. 

'  Heliconia,  i. 

'  Astrophel  and  Stella,  I. 


126  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

Like  Burns  he  realizes  the  necessity  of  "nature's  fire" — that  it  is 
the  high  function  of  the  poet  to  "touch  the  heart"  and  that  to  move 
others  he  must  himself  feel.  His  excuse  for  being  a  poet  is  that  he  was 
"overmastered"  by  his  thoughts.  The  emotional  and  poetical  Arcadia 
was  written  because  his  many  fancies  must  be  "in  some  way  delivered." 
Ardent  personal  emotion  is  the  source  of  his  poetical  expression  and  the 
reason  for  its  power.  He  is  conscious  of  this  fact  and  like  Burns  and 
Wordsworth  promulgates  it  as  critical  doctrine. 

According  to  Sidney's  view  it  is  chiefly  through  the  esthetic  potency 
of  poetry  that  its  didactic  and  cultural  possibihties  are  to  be  realized. 
By  its  delights  poetry  affords  that  "pleasure  in  the  exercise  of  the  mind" 
which  begets  knowledge.  The  poet  is  superior  to  the  philosopher  be- 
cause the  latter's  "wordish  description"  does  not  "strike,  pierce,  nor 
possess  the  sight  of  the  soul  so  much  as  that  other  doth. "  The  philoso- 
pher, scorning  to  delight,  must  "be  content  little  to  move"  and  the 
"force  of  delight"  being  barred  him,  the  poet  "for  moving"  leaves  him 
far  behind.^"  Poetry  by  its  "charming  sweetness"  has  power  to  draw 
the  rudest  men  "  to  an  admiration  of  knowledge,"  their  "hard  dull  wits" 
being  "softened  and  sharpened"  by  its  "sweet  delights."'^  Its  gentle 
influence  steals  into  the  hearts  of  rough,  hard-hearted  men  before  they 
are  aware,  and  it  will  be  "as  if  they  took  a  medicine  of  cherries. "  The 
poet  not  only  shows  the  way  but  gives  such  a  "  sweet  prospect  into  the 
way  as  will  entice  any  man  to  enter  it";  for  "he  cometh  to  you  with 
words  set  in  delightful  proportion,  either  accompanied  with,  or  prepared 
for,  the  well-enchanting  slcill  of  music;  and  with  a  tale  forsooth  he  cometh 
unto  vou,  with  a  tale  which  holdeth  children  from  play,  and  old  men 
from  the  chimney  corner.  And  pretending  no  more,  doth  intend  the 
winning  of  the  mind  from  wickedness  to  virtue."^'' 

'"Apology,  Smith,  i,   164,   173,   181. 

"  lb.,  151,  153.  Cp.  Lodge:  "Whatso  they  wrote,  it  was  to  tliis  purpose,  in  the 
way  of  pleasure  to  draw  men  to  wisdom"  (Smith,  i,  66). 

1^/6.,  172,  173.  With  this  passage  compare  Rosaline's  praise  of  Biron  {Love's 
Labor's  Lost,  II,  i,  72): 

Which  his  fair  tongue,  conceit's  expositor, 
Delivers  in  such  apt  and  gracious  words 
That  aged  ears  play  truant  at  his  tales. 
And  younger  hearings  are  quite   ravished; 
So  sweet  and  voluble  is  his  discourse. 
And  Biron 's  wc.rds  on  the  poet  inspired  by  love  (IV,  iii,  348): 

O,  then  his  lines  would  ravish  savage  ears 
And  plant  in  tyrants  mild  humility. 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  127 

In  this  vigorously  beneficent  esthetic  force  of  poetry  Sidney  finds 
also  a  powerful  incentive  to  action.  Poetry,  the  companion  of  camps, 
is  an  art  "not  of  effeminateness,  but  of  notable  stirring  of  courage. "^^ 
Infinite  proofs  might  be  alleged  of  its  potency  in  moving  men  to  acts  of 
courage,  courtesy,  and  liberality.  Lyric  poetry  is  especially  "fit  to 
awake  the  thoughts  from  the  sleep  of  idleness,  to  embrace  honorable 
enterprises."  The  songs  of  ancestral  valor  of  Hungary,  "that  right 
soldier-like  nation  think  the  chief  est  kindlers  of  brave  courage."  Even 
the  barbarous  old  song  of  Percy  and  Douglas  moves  Sidney's  own  heart 
more  than  a  trumpet.  Heroical  poetry,  "the  best  and  most  accom- 
plished kind, "  likewise  has  power  to  stir  and  inflame  the  mind  and  inspire 
men  to  noble  living.^'*  With  its  "planet-like  music,"  its  "heart-ravish- 
ing knowledge,"  its  vivid  and  perfect  pictures,  poetry  has  an  esthetic 
emotional  force  beyond  anything  in  ordinary  experience — "to  move 

the  feigned  may  be  turned  to  the  highest  key  of  passion. " 

The  poet  with  the  "hand  of  delight  doth  draw  the  mind  more  effectually 
than  any  other  art  doth."^^ 

Sidney  considers  it  more  fundamentally  essential  that  poetry  should 
please  or  move  than  that  it  should  teach,  placing  the  esthetic  function 
higher  than  the  didactic.  ["That  moving,"  he  affirms,  "is  of  a  higher 
degree  than  teaching,  it  may  by  this  appear,  that  it  is  well  nigh  the  cause 
and  effect  of  teaching.  For  who  will  be  taught,  if  he  be  not  moved  with  d- 
desire  to  be  taught?! and  what  so  much  good  doth  that  teaching  bring        ^^  ^ 

forth as  that  it  moveth  one  to  do  that  which  it  doth     -j^t^^" 

teach?  "^^;|^  The  teachings  of  the  philosopher  are  of  little  avail  unless  put 
into  action  by  the  moving  power  of  poetry,  a  power  that  accomplishes 
the  very  important  and  practical  result  of  inciting  men  to  virtuous 
action,  the  end  of  living.     "Without  delight"  men  "would  fly  as  from  a 

^^  lb.,  193.  Cp.  Nash:  "The  soldier,  in  hope  to  have  his  high  deeds  celebrated 
by  their  pens,  despiseth  a  whole  army  of  perils,  and  acteth  wonders  exceeding  all  human 
conjecture"    {Works,   McKerrow,  i,    193). 

''lb.,   178,   179. 

•5/6.,   169,   174. 

'^  76.,  171.  Cp.  Dryden  {Essay  oj  Dramatic  Poesy,  1668):  "I  am  satisfied  if  it 
cause  delight,  for  delight  is  the  chief  if  not  the  only  end  of  poesy;  instruction  can  be 
admitted  but  in  the  second  place,  for  poesy  instructs  only  as  it  delights".  And 
Shakespeare  {Taming  of  the  Shrew,  I,  i,  36) : 

Music  and  poesy  use  to  quicken  }'ou 

No  profit  grows,  where  is  no  pleasure  ta  'en. 


"*" 


f>^ 


128  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

stranger"  from  the  teaching  of  goodness;  "  to  be  moved  to  do  that  which 
we  know,  or  to  be  moved  with  desire  to  l<.now,  hoc  opus,  hie  labor  est."" 

In  the  strength  of  the  primarily  esthetic  appeal  of  poetry,  however, 
Sidney  finds  danger  of  abuse;  and  "being  abused,  by  the  reason  of  his 
sweet  charming  force,  it  can  do  more  hurt  than  any  other  army  of 
words. '"^  But  according  to  Sidney's  conception  of  the  intimate  rela- 
tionship and  harmony  between  beauty  and  pleasure  on  the  one  hand  and 
spiritual  good  on  the  other,  the  delightfuhiess  of  poetry  may  in  itself  be 
"virtue-breeding."  True  poetic  beauty,  he  deems,  with  its  power  of 
intellectual  and  spiritual  quickening,  is  necessarily  an  agency  for  good- 
ness and  a  most  potent  means  of  disclosing  and  putting  into  operation 
the  highest  truths  of  life.  With  the  right  spirit  on  the  part  of  the  poet  or 
reader,  with  a  certain  idealistic  and  chivalric  attitude  toward  the  esthetic 
qualities  of  poetry,  these  qualities  are  exalted  and  transmuted  into  the 
spiritual  values  of  which  they  are  the  fitting  expression. 

Sidney's  emphasis  upon  the  emotional  values  of  poetry  might  seem, 
as  with  Samuel  Daniel  and  later  with  Wordsworth,  to  make  the  art 
universal  and  democratic.  Indeed,  in  avowing  these  values  in  the  old 
ballad  of  Percy  and  Douglas,  he  is  broader  than  most  of  his  contempo- 
raries, who  scorn  such  work  as  rude  and  barbarous.  However,  he  thinks 
the  ballad  would  be  better  "trimmed  in  the  gorgeous  eloquence  of 
Pindar,  "^^  and  does  not  differentiate  it  sharply  from  the  work  of  the 
ballading  rimesters  of  his  own  day  whom  he  utterly  refuses  to  recognize 
as  eligible  to  the  lofty  calling  of  poet.  With  his  high  ideals  of  esthetic 
qualities  he  finds  equally  intolerable  the  "dainty  wits,"  who  "bravely 
masked"  tell  their  fancies  under  the  alleged  inspiration  of  "the  Sisters 
nine";  or  "Pindar's  apes"  flaunting  "in  phrases  fine";  poetical  euphuists 
with  their  fantastic  similes;  or  the  conventional  amorists  who  affect  the 
far-fetched  helps  of  "Petrarch's  long-deceased  woes. "^^  Such  superiicial 
conceptions  of  poetic  beauty  are  utterly  inadequate  for  work  which  is 
essentially  higher  than  that  of  the  philosopher.     Only  those  of  true 

"lb.,   172. 

18  lb.,  187. 

»/6.,   178 

2°  Astro phel  and  Stella,  XV.  In  several  of  the  earlier  sonnets  in  this  sequence 
Sidney  indicates  clearly  that  in  entering  upon  his  own  work  he  was  consciously  attempt- 
ing to  avoid  and  discredit  the  faults  of  those  that  he  reprehends.  Courthope  {Cam- 
bridge History,  iii,  276)  thinks  that  Spenser  in  pubHshing  his  youthful  Hymns  in  Honor 
of  Love  and  Beauty  (1595-6)  was  impelled  by  a  similar  motive,  desiring  "to  oppose 
his  influence,  as  far  as  he  might,  to  the  prevailing  current  of  taste  in  poetry" 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION   OF  POETRY  129 

nobility  of  mind  and  soul  are  capable  of  the  union  of  lofty  moral  concep- 
tion and  esthetic  excellence  demanded  by  the  very  nature  and  function 
of  poetic  art. 

Spenser  is  evidently  in  close  accord  with  the  high  esthetic  ideals  of 
Sidney.  The  esthetic  spirit  that  underlies  his  correspondence  with 
Gabriel  Harvey  and  that  prevails  throughout  his  poetry  is  manifest  in 
his  first  poetic  venture,  the  Shepherd's  Calendar.  He  had  been  interested 
in  the  schemes  of  classical  versification  of  the  Areopagus,  in  which  there 
seemed  the  possibiUty  of  such  an  artistic  improvement  of  English  verse 
as  would  bring  about  a  "  surceasing  and  silence  of  bald  rimers.  "^^  His 
own  efforts  toward  this  end,  however,  were  chiefly  in  a  different  direc- 
tion, the  scorning  and  spewing  out  of  the  "rakehelly  rout  of  ragged 
rimers,  "^^  as  far  as  he  was  concerned  being  initiated  by  the  publication  of 
the  Shepherd's  Calendar  and  furthered  by  other  works  not  of  the  Areopa- 
gus stamp.  And  not  only  by  his  work  did  he  seek  to  raise  the  poetic 
standard  and  discredit  the  rimesters;  he  also  spoke  his  mind.  In  his 
October  eclogue,  for  instance,  he  expresses  his  disgust  at  their  perform- 
ances, thrusting  sharply  at  such  "Tom  Pipers  "of  poetry  in  "an  ironical 
sarcasmus  spoken  in  derision  of  these  rude  wits.  "^'^  He  further  voices 
his  reprobation  of  the  lowness  and  crudity  of  the  versifiers  in  his  Tears  of 
the  Muses,  like  Sidney  feeling  the  utter  inadequacy  of  the  conception  of 
poetry  manifested  by  their  work.  And  in  the  reform  spirit  of  Sidney  he 
is  consistently  exacting  in  his  attitude  toward  the  artistic  qualities  of  his 
own  work,  his  Shepherd's  Calendar  being  published  in  evident  trepida- 
tion, with  careful  explanations,  and  his  Faery  Queen  being  put  forth  with 
depreciation  of  its  artistic  merits  as 

Rude  rimes,  the  which  a  rustic  muse  did  weave 
In  savage  soil,  far  from  Parnassus'  mount.^^ 

"Letter   to   Harvey,   Smith,   i,   89. 

^-  E.  K.,  Pref.  Shepherd's  Calendar.  E.  K.  highly  extols  the  superior  esthetic 
merits  of  Spenser's  poem,  praising  it  for  its  "grace",  "seemly  simplicity",  "compass 
of  speech  so  delightsome",  and  for  the  general  "excellency"  of  its  "gallant  EngUsh 
verses",  whose  beauties  he  is  anxious  should  not  escape  the  reader.  Nash  in  his  pref- 
ace to  Astrophel  and  Stella,  likewise  chiefly  on  esthetic  grounds,  vaunts  the  superiority 
of  Sidney's  poetry  and  discredits  the  inferior  work  of  others.  The  critics  in  general 
are  energetic  in  praise  and  dispraise  in  their  attempts  to  uphold  and  advance  the 
artistic  standard. 

"E.  K.'s  Gloss. 

^  Sonnet  prefixed  to  F.  Q. 


130  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

Although  in  his  Faery  Queen  professing  didactic  and  ethical  aims, 
Spenser  evidently  comprehends  in  his  purpose  ''to  fashion  a  gentleman" 
a  strong  motive  of  esthetic  culture.  Moreover,  he  seeks  to  make  his 
work  "most  plausible  and  pleasing,"  purposing  to  furnish  what  "men 
delight  to  read"  and  to  conform  in  some  measure  at  least  to  the  taste  of 
readers  who  demand  what  is  "delightful  and  pleasing  to  the  common 
sense. "-^    He    even    exemplifies    Sidney's    saying    that    "those    things 

which  in  themselves  are  horrible are  made  in  poetical 

imitation  delightful."-'^  But  the  motive  of  Spenser's  estheticism  is  not 
merely  artistic  and  cultural.  His  sense  of  beauty  is  strongly  emotional 
and  indeed  has  a  religious  basis,  A  worshiper  of  beauty  from  the 
"greener  times"  of  his  youth,  he  had  then  composed  an  "honorable" 
and  "sacred"  Hymn  in  Honor  of  Beauty  in  which  he  hoped  that  he 

The  ravisht  hearts  of  gazeful  men  might  rear 

To  admiration  of  that  heavenly  light. 

From  whence  proceeds  such  soul-enchanting  might. 

In  this  poem  he  shows  the  divine  origin  and  nature  of  earthly  beauty. 
At  the  time  of  creation,  "  this  world's  great  workmaster  "  had  before  him 
a  "wondrous  pattern"  of  "perfect  Beauty,  which  all  men  adore";  and 
from  this  source  is  derived  the  beauty  of  earthly  things,  the  dull  earth, 
"through  infusion  of  celestial  power,"  being  quickened  with  delight  and 
made  pleasing  to  the  sight  of  man.  Spenser,  like  Sidney,  evidently  has 
faith  in  this  divine  delight  of  the  world  and  believes  that  one  of  the  most 
potent  means  of  entering  into  the  minds  and  hearts  of  men  is  by  appeal- 
ing to  their  joyous  sense  of  beauty  through  poetry.  And  according  to  his 
conception  in  the  Hymn,  the  beauty  of  earthly  forms  is  not  merely  exter- 
nal: 

I  that  have  often  prov'd,  too  well  it  know 

That  beauty  is  not,  as  fond  men  misdeem, 
An  outward  show  of  things  that  only  seem. 

Nor  merely  external  if  the  beauty  of  the  delightful  pictures  by  which  the 
poet  makes  his  appeal ;  bodying  forth  as  they  do  his  inspired  imaginative 
conceptions,  they  are  manifestations  of  a  divinely  bestowed  inherent 
spiritual  beauty.     Neither  is  true  beauty  ephemeral,  for,  though  the 

^  Letter  to  Raleigh.  Spenser,  knowing  the  taste  of  his  readers  for  deep  conceits 
and  cloudy  figures,  doubtless  valued  the  allegory  itself  for  its  esthetic  as  well  as  its 
ethical  merits. 

'^Apology,  Smith,  i,  173. 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  131 

outward  show  "shall  turn  to  dust,"  the  lamp  from  which  the  Ught  of 
beauty  emanates 

Shall    never   be    extinguisht    nor    decay 

For  it  is  heavenly  born  and  cannot  die. 

So  intimate  and  indissoluble  is  the  relationship  between  beauteous  forms 
and  the  spiritual  force  which  animates  them  that  fairest  bodies  on  the 
earth  are  those  that  possess  the  most  of  heavenly  light, — 

For  of  the  soul  the  body  form  doth  take; 
For  soul  is  form  and  doth  the  body  make.'^^ 

And,  though  there  may  be  exceptions,  due  to  special  causes,  in  general 

All  that  fair  is,  is  by  nature  good. 

Thus,  in  Spenser's  idealism,  high  moral  feeling  and  high  esthetic  feeling 
are  loarmoniously  unified;  the  virtues  become  romantically  beautiful  and 
beauty  is  exalted  and  spiritualized, — and  poetry  as  the  most  adequate 
expression  of  this  union  becomes,  as  Sidney  says,  "virtue-breeding 
delightfulness. " 

"The  perfect  perfection  of  poetry,"  according  to  Webbe,  "is  this,  to 
mingle  delight  with  profit  in  such  wise  that  a  reader  might  by  his  reading 
be  a  partaker  of  both.  "-^  Webbe  seems  rather  undecided,  however,  as  to 
which  of  the  two  aims  prescribed  by  Horace  is  the  more  fundamental.  In 
one  place  he  affirms  that  "the  very  ground  of  right  poetry"  is  "to  give 
profitable  counsel,  yet  so  it  must  be  mingled  with  delight";  and  again 
with  something  of  historical  retrospect  he  declares  that  "  the  very  sum  or 
chiefest  essence  of  poetry  did  always  for  the  most  part  consist  in  delight- 
ing the  readers  or  hearers  with  pleasure,  so,  as  the  number  of  poets 
increased,  they  still  inclined  this  way  rather  than  the  other,  so  that  most 
of  them  had  special  regard  to  the  pleasantness  of  their  fine  conceits, 
whereby  they  might  draw  men's  minds  into  admiration  of  their  inven- 
tions, more  than  they  had  to  the  profit  or  commodity  that  the  readers 
should  reap  by  their  works.  "-^  In  Webbe's  mind,  with  its  puritan 
proclivities,  the  two  functions  are  apparently  co-ordinate  or  separate,  and 
not  as  in  Spenser's  conception  harmoniously  unified  in  one  larger  psychi- 

"  Gabriel  Harvey  saj^s  of  Du  Bartas,  "His  style  addeth  favor  and  grace  to  beauty 
and  in  a  goodly  body  representeth  a  puissant  soul"  (Smith,  ii,  266). 

^  Discourse,  Smith,  i,  250.  The  mingling  of  "delight  wdth  profit"  seems  to  have 
been  particularly  acceptable  to  EUzabethan  temper.  The  later  tendency  to  divorce 
this  happy  renaissance-reformation  union  was  not  well  for  poetry  and  drama. 

''lb.,  235,  251. 


132  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

cal  purpose.  He  does  not,  as  did  Spenser  and  Sidney,  and  in  fact  most 
of  the  critics,  recognize  the  spiritual  value  of  the  esthetic  element,  which 
to  him  is  a  sort  of  sugar  coating  rather  than  an  essential  ingredient  of 
poetry. 

Indeed,  although  Webbe  expresses  some  objection  to  superficial 
esthetic  tendency,  he  is,  by  his  own  superficial  conception  and  euphuistic 
predilections,  actually  in  accord  with  it.  His  apprehension  of  esthetic 
values  is  limited  largely  to  matters  of  external  ornamentation,  though  he 
professes  discrimination  here  and  reprehends  attempted  garnishing  that 
results  in  corrupting  poetry  "with  fantastical  errors."  He  warmly 
commends  Phaer  and  Golding  for  their  "beautifying  of  the  English 
speech"  and  likewise  praises  Gabriel  Harvey  for  his  endeavors  "to 
reform  our  English  verse  and  to  beautify  the  same  with  brave  devices. " 
Others  whom  he  cannot  mention  individually  are  encouraged  for  their 
"dainty  morsels  and  fine  poetical  inventions."  If  English  poets  could 
be  persuaded  to  adopt  classical  versification  he  is  sure  that  they  would 
soon  discredit  "bald  rimes"  and  "not  stoop  to  the  best  of  them  all  in  all 
manner  of  ornament  and  comeUness.  "^^ 

Interestingly  enough,  Webbe,  notwithstanding  his  didactic  bent, 
hesitatingly  recognizes  the  principle  of  art  for  art's  sake.  Certain 
"illecibrous  works  and  inventions"  of  the  ancients  he  thinks  "for  their 
art  sake,  might  obtain  passage.  "^'  He  is  glad,  however,  that  except  for 
"a  few  bald  ditties,"  not  to  be  accounted  poetry,  English  poetry  is  free 
from  "such  perilous  pieces."  Highly  pleased  with  the  "delightsome 
vein"  of  Chaucer,  Webbe  deems  that  no  poet  could  with  "more  pithy 
skill  unfold  such  pleasant  and  delightsome  matters  of  mirth,  as  though 
they  respected  nothing  but  the  telling  of  a  merry  tale.  "^^ 

Puttenham's  esthetic  ideals  are  in  general  less  superficial  than  those 
of  Webbe.  In  his  "  censure  "  upon  English  poets  he,  like  Webbe,  honors 
the  poets  who  have  by  their  studies  "beautified  our  English  tongue"  and 
"polished  our  rude  and  homely  manner  of  vulgar  poesy  from  that  it  had 
been  before."  Gower,  though  affording  "good  and  grave  moralities," 
he  condemns  for  his  homeliness  of  verse,  deficiencies  of  style,  and  "  small 
subtility'  'of  invention.  The  beauties  to  be  found  in  Wyatt  and  Surrey, 
however,  evoke  his  enthusiastic  praise,  and  he  has  good  words  for  others, 

'0/6.,    245,    262,    279. 
"  Ih.,    255. 

'-  Ih.,  251.     E.  K.  also  extols  Chaucer's  power  to  please  (Gloss,  February  eclogue, 
Shepherd's  Calendar),  "whose  praise  for  pleasant  tales  cannot  die,  so  long  as     .     .     . 
.     .     the  name  of  poetry  shall  endure". 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  133 

among  them  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  whose  "vein"  he  finds  "most  lofty, 
insolent,   and  passionate."    Naturally,   the  Queen's   "delicate,   noble 

muse  easily  surmounteth  all for  sense,  sweetness,  and 

subtiHty."33 

Puttenham  lays  stress  upon  the  ways  in  which  poetry  appeals  to  the 
senses.  It  is  "a  kind  of  music,"  "a  musical  speech  or  utterance,"^'* 
possessing  harmony  and  melody,  "pleasing  the  ear"  by  its  "congruity 
in  sounds,"  its  metrical  effects  contributing  largely  to  its  power  of  afford- 
ing pleasure.  Its  language  must  be  "sweet  and  civil"  with  "choice  of 
words  and  phrases";  its  sense  appeal  must  be  heightened  by  "figurative 
conveyance."  In  "pleasant  manner  of  utterance"  it  should  vary 
"from  the  ordinary  of  purpose  to  refresh  the  mind  by  the  ear's  de- 
light. "^^ 

The  esthetic  function  of  poetry  is  not  satisfied,  however,  if  the 
harmonies  and  felicities  of  style  do  nothing  more  than  please  the  senses. 
These  features  must  "delight  and  allure  as  well  the  mind."  Indeed, 
"ornament  poetical  is  of  two  sorts  according  to  the  double  virtue  and 

efficacy  of  figures one  to  satisfy  and  delight  the  ear  only 

by  a  goodly  outward  show  set  upon  the  matter  with  words  and  speeches 
smoothly  and  tunably  running,  another  by  certain  intendments  or  sense 

'3  Art  of  English  Poesy,  Smith,  ii,  62,  64,  66. 

^^  lb.,  67.     Cp.  Passionate  Pilgrim,  1.  103 : 

If  music  and  sweet  poetry  agree, 

As  needs  they  must,  the  sister  and  the  brother 

One  god  is  god  of  both,  as  poets  feign. 

Hazlitt  ("Milton")  says  that  in  "L'Allegro"  the  poet  has  "given  us  the  theory  of 
his   versification"    — 

Lap   me   in   soft   Lydian   airs. 
Married  to  immortal  verse, 
Such  as  the  meeting  soul  may  pierce, 
In   notes   with   many   a   winding   bout 

Of  linked  sweetness  long  drawn  out 

The  melting  voice  through  mazes  running. 
Untwisting  all  the  chains  that  tie 
The    hidden    soul    of    harmony. 

Sidney  declares  poetry  to  be  "the  onl)  .it  speech  for  music  —  music,  I  say,  the  most 
divine  striker  of  the  senses"  (Apology,  Smith,  i,  182). 

« lb.,  9,  24. 


134  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

of  such  words  and  speeches  inwardly  working  a  stir  to  the  mind."^® 
Evidently,  since  the  mind  is  refreshed  by  the  "ear's  delight,"  the  two 
sorts  of  ornament  by  the  double  efficacy  of  figures  combine  to  awaken 
and  direct  the  thoughts  and  feelings  of  men  by  an  appeal  made  largely 
through  their  esthetic  senses.  By  its  "sweet  and  eloquent  persuasion," 
poetry  has  power  to  enter  and  mollify  "hard  and  stony  hearts."  With 
its  melodies,  its  sweet  and  civil  utterance,  its  "fresh  colors  and  figures," 
it  "inveiglelh  the  judgment  of  man,  and  carrieth  his  opinion  this  way 
and  that,  whithersoever  the  heart  by  impression  of  the  ear  shall  be  most 
affectionately  bent  and  directed.  "^^  Thus  Puttenham,  as  a  self-con- 
stituted exponent  of  the  art  of  poetry  and  a  lover  of  English  culture,  not 
only  exalts  beauty — that  quality  which  exerted  such  a  powerful  influence 
on  Elizabethan  life  and  which  so  notably  distinguishes  Elizabethan 
poetry — but  also,  like  Sidney  and  Spenser,  recognizes  the  intimate 
relationship  between  sensuous  and  spiritual  beauty  and  the  reinforced 
psychical  power  resulting  from  their  happy  unification  in  poetry. 

A  further  phase  of  the  esthetic  function  recognized  by  Puttenham  is 
that  by  which  poetry  becomes  a  means  of  giving  vent  to  the  emotions 
and  of  solacing  the  heart.  "  To  rejoice  and  take  our  pleasures  in  virtuous 
and  honest  sort, "  he  thinks,  "  is  not  only  allowable  but  also  necessary  and 
very  natural  to  man."  The  larger  "joys  and  consolations  of  the  heart" 
demand  utterance,  and  since  it  is  natural  and  advantageous  that  men 
should  communicate  and  share  such  emotions,  "therefore  nature  and 
civility  have  ordained  ....  rejoicings  for  the  recreation  and 
comfort  of  many."  This  has  given  rise  to  various  forms  of  "poetical 
rejoicings"  such  as  poems  on  victories,  coronations,  marriages,  and 
births,  and,  further,  poems  giving  expression  to  "the  amorous  affec- 
tions," and  others  in  praise  of  the  gods.^*  Although  the  subject-matter 
of  poetry  should  not  be  unworthy,  vain  or  foolish,  yet  "merry  matters" 
may  be  used  for  man's  solace  and  recreation.^^    A  legitimate  purpose 

^^  lb.,  148.  Cp.  Thomas  Wilson's  theory  that  figures  were  invented  to  "cause 
deUght:  to  refresh  with  pleasure  and  quicken  with  grace  the  dulness  of  man's  brain" 
(Warton's  Hist.  Eng.  Poetry,  iv,  162). 

''  lb.,  8.  Cp.  Dryden  (Pref.  Tyrannic  Love,  1669):  "By  the  harmony  of  words  we 
elevate  the  mind  to  a  sense  of  devotion,  as  our  solemn  music,  which  is  inarticulate 
poesy,    does    in    churches". 

38/6.,  46,  47. 

^^  lb.,  24,  Cp.  Spenser,  verses  prefixed  to  F.  Q.,  to  Lord  Hatton: 

So  Maro  oft  did  Caesar's  cares  allay. 

So  you,  great  lord,  that  with  your  counsel  sway 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  135 

of  the  art  is  "the  consolation  and  repose  of  temperate  minds:  finally, 
the  common  solace  of  mankind  in  all  his  travails  and  cares  of  this  transi- 
tory life;  and  in  this  last  sort,  being  used  for  recreation  only,  may  allow- 
ably bear  matter  not  always  of  the  gravest  or  of  any  great  commodity  or 
profit,  but  rather  in  some  sort  vain,  dissolute,  or  wanton,  so  it  be  not 
very  scandalous  and  of  evil  example."^'' 

The  function  of  poetry  as  an  outlet  of  the  emotions  Puttenham  finds 
to  be  applicable  also  to  the  expression  of  sorrow  and  grief,  and  human 
instinct  for  self-expression  gives  rise  to  "poetical  lamentations."  Here, 
too,  there  is  pleasure,  the  esthetics  of  sorrow,  for  although  "lamenting  is 

altogether  contrary  to  rejoicing yet  it  is  a  piece  of  joy  to 

be  able  to  lament  with  ease,  and  freely  to  pour  forth  a  man's  inward 
sorrows  and  the  griefs  wherewith  his  mind  is  surcharged."  The  grief 
itself  is  made  in  part  a  "cure  of  the  disease"  by  this  "very  necessary 
device  of  the  poet."  Extending  the  application  of  the  idea  still  farther, 
Puttenham  affirms  that  in  a  similar  manner  arose  the  "poesy  by  which 
men  did  use  to  reproach  their  enemies, "  which  served  as  "a  mean  to  rid 
the  gall  of  all  such  vindictive  men"  and  afforded  "great  easement  to  the 
boiling  stomach."  Men  "must  needs  utter  their  spleens  in  all  ordinary 
matters  also,  or  else  it  seemed  their  bowels  would  burst:  therefore  the 
poet  devised  a  pretty  fashioned  poem"  called  Epigramma.'^^  Thus, 
according  to  Puttenham's  view,  different  forms  or  kinds  of  poetry  take 
their  origin  in  the  necessity  of  giving  utterance  to  the  different  phases 
of  human  emotion;  and  it  is  easy  to  see  how  in  his  conception  the  external 
esthetic  qualities,  determined  largely  by  the  nature  of  the  feeling  to  be 
expressed,  are  intimately  related  to  inner  spiritual  qualities  and  make  an 
important  contribution  to  the  sum  total  of  emotional  and  psychical 
effect. 

This  differentiation  of  poetic  forms  according  to  the  various  emotions 
to  be  expressed  is  in  harmony  with  Puttenham's  doctrine  of  decorum; 
for  by  this  doctrine  poetic  form  and  style  should  be  adapted  to  the  vary- 
ing kinds  of  subject-matter.  Moreover,  Puttenham  deems  that  the 
subject-matter  of  poetry  represents  not  only  different  human  emotions 
but  also  different  values  or  degrees  of  rank;  and  apparently  transferring 

The    burden    of    this   kingdom    mightily, 
With  hke  delights  sometimes  may  eke  delay 
The  rugged  brow  of  careful  Policy. 

«/6.,  25. 

"76.,  49,  56,  60. 


136  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

to  poetry  the  ideas  of  distinction  obtaining  in  the  aristocratic  social 
system  with  which  he  was  famihar,  he  divides  poetic  subject-matter  into 
"high,"  "mean,"  and  "base  and  low."  There  should  be  a  correspond- 
ing adaptation  of  style,  every  subject  being  set  forth  in  its  "degree  and 
decency."  Furthermore,  in  accordance  with  the  demands  of  decorum, 
the  form  and  style  of  poetry  should  be  adapted  to  different  classes  of 
readers,  these  classes  presumably  differing  in  esthetic  sensibility.  A 
poet  should  discriminate  "and  not  give  such  music  to  the  rude  and  bar- 
barous, as  he  would  to  the  learned  and  delicate  ear.  "'*^ 

Puttenham's  court  experience,  it  seems,  as  well  as  his  solicitous  desire 
to  uplift  and  refine  English  poetry,  gave  a  decidedly  aristocratic  bent  to 
his  esthetic  ideals.  He  would  lift  up  "  vulgar  poesy"  and  make  it  seemly 
in  the  sight  of  the  court  by  having  it  clad  in  such  "kindly  clothes  and 
colors"  as  would  conceal  its  naked  limbs  and  elevate  it  above  the  "com- 
mon course  of  ordinary  speech  and  capacity  of  the  vulgar  judgment." 

Poetry  "being  artificially  handled  must  needs  yield much 

more  beauty  and  commendation";  therefore,  nakedness  and  baldness 
should  be  covered  and  bedecked,  and  all  that  savors  of  crudeness  and 
barbarism  should  be  eliminated  by  such  attention  to  decorum,  proportion, 
cadence,  and  ornament  as  would  make  the  art  "decenter  and  more 
agreeable  to  any  civil  ear  and  understanding."^^  Poets  should  rise 
above  the  popular  taste  for  matters  of  tavern  minstrels,  including  such 
"stories  of  old  time  as  the  tale  of  Sir  Thopas,  Bevis  of  Southampton, 
Guy  of  Warwick,  Adam  Bell,  and  Clymme  of  the  Clough,  and  such  other 
old  romances  or  historical  rimes,  made  purposely  for  the  recreation  of 
the  common  people."  In  their  "courtly  ditties"  writers  should  avoid 
practices  that  "smatch  more  of  the  school  of  common  players  than  of 
any  delicate  poet,  lyric  or  elegiac,"^  and  banish  utterly  "measures 
pleasing  only  to  the  popular  ear. "  Such  were  the  esthetic  ideals  voiced 
by  Puttenham  and  other  reformers  and  furtherers  of  English  poetry,  and, 
though  the  popular  ear  was  not  neglected,  poets  rose  to  the  occasion,  and 
the  requirements  of  the  most  cultured  and  fastidious  taste  ought  to  have 
been  richly  satisfied. 

Nash  shows  by  the  testimony  of  Cicero  that  ancient  poets,  in  order 
to  allure  men  to  learning,  attached  much  importance  to  esthetic  qualities, 
giving  attention  in  their  poetry  chiefly  to  two  things,  "sweetness  of 

«/6.,  91,  158. 
«/Z).,  143. 
"  lb.,  87,  132. 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  137 

verse  and  variety  of  invention"^* — in  other  words,  making  their  work 
dehghtful  by  its  harmony  and  melody  and  by  its  "witty  fiction."  For 
such  qualities  he  commends  his  contemporary  Peele  as  "the  chief  sup- 
porter of  pleasance  now  living.  "^*'  The  artistic  merits  of  Sidney's 
Astrophel  and  Stella  also  evoke  his  most  enthusiastic  praise.  His  esthetic 
interest,  however,  is  not  constructive  and  is  expressed  chiefly  in  his 
denunciations  of  the  rude  rimers  who  with  their  "jarring  verse"  alienate 
men  from  the  delights  of  poetry.  This  "ravenous  rabble"  he  earnestly 
desires  to  suppress.  Although  hating  puritans,  he  finds  the  chief  menace 
to  poetry  to  come  rather  from  "ignorant  artificers,"  "impudent  incip- 
ients,"  who  are  an  obloquy  to  art  and  whose  "ragged  rimes,"  breeding 
detestation  and  disgracing  English  poetry,  he  heartily  wishes  might  by 
public  edict  be  prohibited.  Such  blockhead  poets,  "the  stain  of  art," 
it  was  that  Plato  excluded  from  his  Commonwealth.^^ 

Sir  John  Harington  gives  esthetic  values  a  subordinate  place.  He 
recognizes,  however,  the  esthetic  merits  of  verse,  one  of  the  "good  uses" 
being  "the  pleasure  and  sweetness  to  the  ear  which  makes  the  discourse 
pleasant  unto  us  often  time  when  the  matter  itself  is  harsh  and  unaccept- 
able." Indeed  the  sweetness  of  the  verse  and  the  "pleasant  and  pretty 
fiction"  of  poetry  may  be  considered  sufficient  ends  for  such  readers  as 
are  not  able  to  enter  into  the  moral  sense  or  allegory .^^  Harington  also 
agrees  with  Sir  Philip  Sidney  that  the  pleasure-giving  qualities  of  poetry 
may  have  the  important  effect  of  softening  and  polishing  the  "hard  and 
rough  dispositions  of  men,"  making  them  "capable  of  virtue  and  good 
discipline."*^  Notwithstanding  his  allegorical  bias — doubtless  enhanced 
by  his  desire  to  gain  favor  for  his  author — Harington,  in  excusing  the 
wantonness  of  Ariosto's  characters  on  the  ground  of  decorum  and  in 
delighting  in  their  portrayal,  comes  near  recognizing  the  principle  of  art 
for  art's  sake.^" 

The  various  expositions  of  verse  and  the  verse  controversies  and 
experiments  all  through  this  period  were  impelled  largely  by  esthetic 
motives  and  interests.  In  the  controversy  between  Campion  and 
Daniel,  rime  is  condemned  on  esthetic  grounds  and  on  esthetic  grounds 

^Anatomy  of  Absurdity,  Smith,  i,  328. 

^  Pref.  Menaphon,  Smith,  i,  319. 

"  Anatomy  of  Absurdity,  Smith,  i,  327,  328. 

^  Pref.   Orlando   Furioso,    Smith,   ii,    203,   206. 

« lb.,  197. 

w/6.,  209,  215. 


138  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

defended  and  praised.  Campion,  like  others,  finds  that  it  "offends  the 
ear  with  tedious  affectation";^'  while  Daniel  rejoins  that  "our  rime 

doth  add  more  grace,  and  hath  more  of  delight  than  ever 

bare  numbers can  possibly  yield";  "delighting  the  ear, 

stirring  the  heart,  and  satisfying  the  judgment."^' 

Daniel,  like  Puttenham,  recognizes  the  emotional  power  of  the 
melody  and  beauty  of  poetry,  but  in  so  doing  in  defense  of  rime  he  mani- 
fests a  more  philosophically  democratic  spirit  than  any  of  the  previous 
critics.  He  declares  that  if  the  barbarians  use  rime  "  then  it  shows  that 
it  sways  the  affection  of  the  barbarian:  if  civil  nations  practice  it,  it 
proves  that  it  works  upon  the  hearts  of  civil  nations:  if  all,  then  that  it 
hath  a  power  in  nature  on  all. "  Taking  a  broad,  pragmatic  view  of  the 
esthetic  aspect  of  poetry  he  asserts,  with  something  of  the  sweeping  ardor 
of  Sidney,  that  "whatsoever  force  of  words  doth  move,  delight,  and  sway 

the  affections  of  men is  true  number,  measure,  eloquence, 

and  the  perfection  of  speech";  "suffer  then  the  world  to  enjoy  that  which 
it  knows,  and  what  it  likes.  "^^ 

The  poetry  of  the  English  people,  in  Daniel's  view,  possesses  a 
mysterious  excellence  of  its  own  which  is  the  natural  expression  of  the 
poetic  spirit  of  the  race,  a  sort  of  spontaneous  outpouring  of  melody  and 
beauty  in  song  according  to  the  inherent  promptings  of  nature.  Free 
alike  from  the  apprehensive  distrust  of  barbarism  and  the  constraining 
bonds  of  classicism,  Daniel's  conception  of  esthetic  values  is  open  to  a 
frank  recognition  of  poetic  beauty  in  whatever  condition  or  form  it 
manifests  itself.  He  possesses  the  taste,  insight,  and  freedom  of  spirit  to 
enter  into  a  liberal  appreciation  of  the  noble  lyric  verse  that  following 
native  instinct  and  genius,  enhanced  and  refined  by  foreign  influence, 
became  the  most  characteristic  and  most  beautiful  expression  of  the 
greatest  period  of  English  poetic  art. 

The  quest  of  esthetic  perfection,  exuberantly  reflected  in  the  life  and 
literature  of  this  period,  is  likewise  evidently  a  strong  motive  in  the 
poetic  criticism,  wherein  great  interest  is  shown  in  all  that  would  refine 
and  beautify  English  poetry  and  enhance  its  charm  and  power.  Upon 
this  interest  rests  the  large  body  of  criticism  devoted  to  matters  of  form 
and  style  as  well  as  that  dealing  with  the  more  spiritual  and  philosophical 
aspects  of  esthetic  values.     Persistent,  enthusiastic  effort  is  given  to  the 

*'  Observations,  Smith,  ii,  330. 
«  Defense  of  Rime,  ib.,  360,  362. 
^^Ib.,  361,  363. 


THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTION  OF  POETRY  139 

task  of  elevating  standards  of  poetic  beauty  and  of  making  available 
such  full  knowledge  of  artistic  devices  as  would  make  possible  the  realiza- 
tion of  highest  perfection.  Participating  in  the  renaissance  homage  of 
culture,  the  critics  felt  that  in  poetry  lay  the  greatest  possibilities  for 
cultural  advancement.  If  these  possibilities  were  to  be  realized,  however, 
if  poetry  was  to  attain  and  preserve  its  merited  distinction  as  an  exponent 
of  culture,  it  must  be  jealously  guarded  from  the  perversions  of  vulgar 
taste  and  crude  artistry,  and  its  development  consigned  to  men  of  high 
ideals,  real  poetic  talent,  and  knowledge  of  best  models  and  principles. 
In  addition  to  their  interest  in  the  esthetic  development  of  poetry  as 
a  means  and  exponent  of  culture  and  as  a  source  of  national  glory,  the 
critics  show  a  due  realization  of  the  esthetic  element  as  a  source  of 
pleasure  and  solace  and  of  spiritual  uplift  in  the  lives  of  men.  They 
find  in  poetry  delight  to  the  mind  and  heart,  satisfaction  to  the  sense  of 
beauty;  a  refuge  from  trouble  and  a  balm  for  sorrow,  as  is  exemplified  in 
the  Arcadianism  and  pastoralism  of  their  day ;  and  an  outlet  for  emotions 
of  joy,  as  exemplified  in  the  rich  and  spontaneous  outpouring  of  song. 
Their  sense  of  emotional  values  is  strong;  especially  is  this  true  of  Sidney 
and  Spenser  and  those  most  closely  in  touch  with  the  ideals  that  animated 
their  work.  Poetic  expression,  they  deem,  is  warranted  by  genuine 
poetic  feeling,  and  they  find  that  the  emotional  exaltation  that  unifies 
and  harmonizes  external  and  spiritual  beauty  gives  poetry  an  irresistible 
charm  and  power  as  a  quickening  and  uplifting  force  in  human  life. 
Applying  to  poetry  a  chivalric  worship  of  beauty,  they  idealize  its  sensu- 
ous charms  as  symbolical  of  perfect  graces  and  truths  to  be  perceived  only 
by  the  eyes  of  the  mind.  Such  a  spirit  helps  to  account  for  the  pure  and 
noble  lyrics  from  men  of  aberrant  lives.  Christopher  Marlowe,  for 
instance,  not  only  compasses  the  heights  of  poetic  expression  but  eulogizes 
the  beauty  of  poetic  art  with  religious-like  fervor.^^     Such  a  spirit  seems 

^*  What  is  beauty,   saith  my  sufferings,   then? 
If  all  the  pens  that  ever  poets  held 
Had  fed  the  feeling  of  their  masters'   thoughts, 
And  every  sweetness  that  inspired  their  hearts, 
Their  minds,  and  muses,  on  admired  themes; 
If   all   the   heavenly   quintessence   they   stiU 
From  their  immortal   flowers  of  poesy, 
Wherein,  as  in  a  mirror,  we  perceive 
The  highest  reaches  of  a  human  wit; 
If  these  had  made  one  poem's  period. 
And   aU   combined   in   beauty's   worthiness; 
Yet  should  there  hover  in  their  restless  heads 


140  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

to  make  the  visions  of  esthetic  delights  of  the  Arcadia  and  the  Faery 
Queen  of  spiritual  significance  to  their  authors  and  readers  similar  to  that 
obtained  by  men  of  a  later  period  from  the  visions  of  the  Pilgrim's 
Progress.  The  embodiments  of  physical  and  spiritual  beauty  which 
appear  illusory  to  generations  this  side  of  the  Renaissance  were  apparent- 
ly real  and  vitalizing  to  the  comprehensive  idealism  of  the  Elizabethans. 
Sufifer  their  world  to  enjoy  what  it  knows  and  what  it  likes.  In  the 
thought  of  such  men  as  Sidney  and  Spenser,  in  whom  there  is  a  happy 
blending  of  reformation  spirit  with  the  spirit  of  renaissance,  high  esthetic 
feeling  takes  its  place  beside  high  moral  feeling.  According  to  their 
pre-puritan  conception,  the  excitement  of  lofty  and  pleasurable  emotions 
by  an  appeal  to  the  senses  and  the  imagination  exalts  the  soul  and  opens 
the  mind  to  the  apprehension  of  truth  and  to  the  interpretation  of 
beauty  as  truth  and  virtue,  poetry  in  their  estimation  affording  the  best 
means  for  the  accomplishmaent  of  this  beneficent  result  and  for  putting  it 
into  active  operation  in  the  life  of  man.  For  "virtue  is  made  strong  by 
beauty's    might  "^^ — and    it    is 

True  that  true  beauty  virtue  is  indeed. ^^ 

The  force  of  renaissance  spirit,  gently  tempered  by  puritanism,  was  such 
in  this  period  as  successfully  to  combat  the  error  that  the  esthetic  element 
in  poetry  is  detached,  external,  merely  decorative.  And  Elizabethan 
poetry,  as  well  as  Elizabethan  criticism,  in  general  reflects  the  triumph 
of  the  principle  that  beauty  like  virtue  is  fundamental  and  inherent.  The 
later  puritan  influence  largely  subverts  this  principle,  and,  though  it  was 
reaffirmed  on  a  more  superficial  basis  by  Addison  and  Shaftsbury  in  the 
eighteenth  century  and  promulgated  by  Keats  and  Ruskin  in  the  nine- 
teenth century,  its  genuine  acceptance,  its  power  in  English  poetry,  has 
never  been  so  great  as  in  the  days  of  Sidney,  Spenser,  and  Shakespeare. 


One  thought,  one  grace,  one  wonder  at  the  least 
Which  into  words  no  virtue  can  digest. 

— First  Part  of  Tamhurlaine,  V,  ii. 


^^  Astrophel    and   Stella,    XLVIIT. 
»  lb.,  V. 


FORM 

I.  Style  and  Figure 

Many  influences  conspired  to  excite  in  Elizabethan  critics  an  active 
interest  in  all  matters  of  poetic  form  and  style.  Poetry  was  a  natural 
center  and  exponent  of  the  spirit  of  cultural  progress  and  of  the  growing 
sense  of  esthetic  values  ministered  to  by  contact  with  renaissance  and 
classical  literature;  and  study  and  imitation  in  behalf  of  poetry  naturally 
resulted  in  directing  large  attention  to  the  formal  elements  of  the  art. 
The  heightened  sense  of  artistic  merits  stimulated  the  spirit  of  national 
emulation  and  strengthened  the  determination  to  overcome  the  reproach 
of  outward  crudity  and  barbarism.  Moreover,  the  love  of  distinction, 
which  in  the  social  life  of  the  time  usually  sought  by  elaboration,  adorn- 
ment, and  general  elegance  to  enhance  social  and  class  differentiation, 
when  turned  to  poetry  frequently  took  the  course  of  style  and  ornamenta- 
tion. Thus,  while  in  theory  the  critics  in  general  declare  form  to  be 
subordinate  to  matter  and  while  the  best  critics  withstand  superficial 
stylistic  tendencies,  yet  the  critical  treatises  of  the  period — attempting 
to  meet  practical  needs — are  often  devoted  largely  to  the  more  tangible 
and  teachable  features  of  poetry,  although  these  are  sometimes  philo- 
sophically treated. 

The  figurative  element  of  style,  conspicuous  in  the  poetry  of  the 
time,  naturally  received  a  great  deal  of  consideration  from  the  critics; 
and  the  rhetoricians  of  the  early  part  of  the  period,  devoting  much 
attention  to  figures  of  speech,  began  in  England  a  study  that  has  held 
prominent  place  down  to  the  present  day.  Thomas  Wilson  in  his 
famous  Art  of  Rhetoric  promotes  this  feature  of  poetic  art,  affirming  that 

"figures were    invented    to    avoid    satiety,    and    cause 

delight:  to  refresh  with  pleasure  and  quicken  with  grace  the  dulness  of 
man's  brain."  And  using  a  figure  that  smacks  slightly  of  euphuism  to 
enforce  his  thought,  he  adds,  "Who  will  look  on  a  white  wall  an  hour 
together  where  no  workmanship  is  at  all?  Or  who  will  eat  still  one  kind  of 
meat  and  never  desire  change?"^  Wilson,  however,  is  conservative 
toward  matters  of  ornament,  especially  toward  borrowings  of  finery  from 
Italy,  though  he  is  philosophically  open-minded  in  attempting  to  account 
for  the  penchant  of  his  contemporaries  for  "far-fetcht  and  translated" 

'  Warton's  Hist.  Eng.  Poelry,  iv,  162. 


142  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

(i.  e.  metaphorical)  terms.  He  thinks  that  either  "  men  count  it  a  point 
of  wit"  to  use  these  instead  of  "such  words  as  are  at  hand,"  "or  else  it  is 
because  the  hearer  is  led  by  cogitation  upon  rehearsal  of  a  metaphor,  and 
thinketh  more  by  remembrance  of  a  word  translated  than  is  there  ex- 
pressly spoken;  or  else  because  the  whole  matter  seemeth  by  a  similitude 
to  be  opened:  or,  last  of  all,  because  every  translation  is  commonly  and 
for  the  most  part  referred  to  the  senses  of  the  body,  and  especially  to  the 
sense  of  seeing,  which  is  the  sharpest  and  quickest  above  all  other."' 

Ascham,  though  like  Wilson  and  like  his  master  Sir  John  Cheke 
frowning  upon  over-elaboration,  is  much  interested  in  matters  of  style, 
and  commends  the  diligent  attention  of  Elizabeth  by  which  she  was 
enabled  to  appreciate  the  niceties  of  style  "in  Greek,  Latin,  or  English 
prose  or  verse."  Doubtless  expressing  his  own  ideals  he  declares  that 
"  she  approved  a  style  chaste  in  its  propriety  and  beautiful  by  perspicuity; 
and  she  greatly  admired  metaphors  when  not  too  violent,  and  anti- 
theses when  just,  and  happily  opposed."^  Ascham's  exhortations  for  a 
more  diligent  and  discriminating  study  of  imitation  are  also  prompted 
largely  by  his  interest  in  the  perfection  of  style,  an  interest  fostered  by 
his  zealous  devotion  to  the  ancient  classics. 

The  refinement  of  English  poetic  style  by  the  work  of  the  courtly 
makers  Wyatt  and  Surrey,  though  not  divulged  in  print  for  the  benefit  of 
their  own  age,  is  duly  recognized  and  proclaimed  by  Tottel  in  1557  and 
is  commended  by  almost  every  critic  thereafter  down  through  the  reign 
of  Elizabeth.  Arthur  Golding's  translation  of  Ovid  ten  years  later  also 
receives  credit  as  a  contribution  to  the  ornamentation  and  refinement  of 
poetry,  Golding  himself  making  strictures  against  "a  plain  or  naked  tale 
or  story  simply  told,"  insisting  on  "pleasant  terms  and  art,"  ^nd  prais- 
ing the  delights  of  allegory,  which  he,  like  Hawes,  evidently  regards  as  an 
ornamental  as  well  as  didactic  feature. 

-  See  F.  I.  Carpenter's  Metaphor  and  Simile  in  Minor  Elizabethan  Drama,  pp.  164-5. 
Among  the  other  rhetorical  treatises  of  the  time  were  Richard  Sherry's  Treatise  of 
Schemes  and  Tropes  (1555)  and  WilHam  Fulwood's  Enemy  of  Idleness  (1568),  both 
devoted  largely  to  "illustrative  passages  from  ancient  and  modern  authors"  (Smith, 
i,  422).  Ascham  observes  with  satisfaction  that  Erasmus  in  his  reading  of  Greek  and 
Latin  authors  noted  down  "all  similitudes"  and  made  his  book  Similia  (Smith,  i,  17). 

3  Letter  to  John  Sturm  (1550),  Whole  Works,  I,  i,  192,  —  transl.  L.  Aikin,  i,  95. 
Elizabeth's  admiration  for  metaphors  and  antitheses,  possibly  not  so  chastened  as 
Ascham  interjirets  it,  no  doubt  afforded  incitement  to  efforts  by  John  Lyly  and  others 

impleasing  to  the  taste  of  Sidney.     Lyly  extols  "her  wit  so  sharp the 

apt  answers,  the  subtle  questions,  the  fine  speeches,  the  pithy  sentences"  {Euphues 
and  his  England,  Arber,  p.  459). 


form:  style;  diction;  verse  143 

Gascoigne  advises  the  poet  to  frame  his  "  style  to  perspicacity  and  to 
be  sensible,  for  the  haughty  obscure  verse  doth  not  much  delight"; 
though  on  the  other  hand  verse  that  is  too  plain  and  "easy  is  like  a  tale 
of  a  roasted  horse."  He  strongly  recommends  figures  and  tropes,  but 
finds  it  difficult  to  give  examples  showing  how  to  use  them.  If  it  were  a 
case  of  praising  a  gentlewoman,  he  suggests  a  better  way  than  commend- 
ing her  "crystal  eye"  or  "cherry  lip,  etc.";  or  if  one  should  wish  to  dis- 
close his  "pretense  of  love"  he  might  discover  his  "disquiet  in  shadows 
per  allegoriam,^'*  or  use  the  most  covert  means  possible  "to  avoid  the 
uncomely  customs  of  common  writers. "  Whatsoever  theme  a  poet  takes 
in  hand  he  should  "study  for  some  depth  of  device  in  the  invention,  and 
some  figures  also  in  the  handling  thereof,"  for  otherwise  "it  will  appear 
to  the  skillful  reader  but  a  tale  of  a  tub. "  The  same  figures  or  tropes 
may  be  used  "in  verse  which  are  used  in  prose,"  and  in  Gascoigne's 
judgment  "they  serve  more  aptly  and  have  greater  grace  in  verse  than 
they  have  in  prose. "^  In  publishing  his  Posies  (1575),  however,  Gas- 
coigne is  somewhat  discouraged  at  the  lack  of  recognition  accorded  fine 
conceits  and  poetical  figures,  for  he  finds  that  slow-witted  English  readers, 
not  so  apt  as  Ascham  declared  Elizabeth  to  be,  often  misinterpret  such 
graces  of  style  or  show  a  lamentable  lack  of  appreciation.  "Of  a  truth, 
my  good  gallants, "  he  complains  in  his  preface,  "  there  are  such  as  having 
only  learned  to  read  English,  interpret  Latin,  Greek,  French  and  Italian 
phrases  or  metaphors,  even  according  to  their  own  motherly  conceptions 
and  childish  skill." 

The  embarrassment  of  efforts  toward  the  refinement  of  poetic  style 
due  to  the  uncultivated  taste  of  readers  was  doubtless  soon  remedied  by 
the  further  publication  of  such  works  as  The  Paradise  of  Dainty  Devices 
(1576),  A  Banquet  of  Dainty  Conceits  (1588),  and  A  Gorgeous  Gallery  of 
Gallant  Inventions  (1578),  all,  and  especially  this  last,  being  devised  "by 
studious  toil,"  "garnished  and  decked  with  divers  dainty  devices," 
fraught  "with  phrases  fine,"  and  "trimmed"  with  all  possible  skill  and 
learning  for  the  delight  of  readers,  particularly  "all  young  gentlemen."^ 
Verily,  "as  God  giveth  life  unto  man:  so  a  poet  giveth  ornament  unto 

*  Cp.  Puttenham  (Smith,  ii,  160,  184):  "The  figure  allegoria,  which 

we  call  the  courtier  or  figure  of  fair  semblant",  —  "your  allegory  by  a  duplicity  of 
meaning  or  dissimulation  under  covert  and  dark  intendments". 

*  Notes  of  Inslruction,  Smith,  i,  48-53.  Puttenham  thinks  that  verse  has  the  ad- 
vantage over  prose  of  "figurative  conveyance",  "all  manner  of  fresh  colors  and  figures" 
not  allowed  at  least  in  "ordinary  prose"  (Smith,  ii,  8,  9). 

*  Heliconia,   p.   ix. 


144  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

it";^  and  after  experience  with  these  works,  readers,  upon  meeting  such 
dainty  devices  as  Spenser's  expression  of  the  passing  of  three  months, 

Now  hath  fair  Phoebe,  with  her  silver  face, 
Thrice  seen  the  shadows  of  this  nether  world,^ 

would  surely  understand  and  be  delighted. 

A  growing  consciousness  of  style  and  concern  for  it  is  manifested  in 
the  prefatory  remarks  of  the  Mirror  for  Magistrates.  Thomas  Blener- 
hasset  (1578)  recognizes — as  Shakespeare  did  later  (sonnet  xxxii) — the 
advance  in  refinement  of  poetic  style,  and  excuses  apparent  lack  of 
polish  in  the  style  of  the  Mirror  on  the  ground  of  decorum,  thinking  it 
not  "  decent  that  the  men  of  the  old  world  should  speak  with  so  garnished 
a  style  as  they  of  the  later  time.  "^  Thomas  Newton,  in  the  edition  of 
1587,  also  shows  a  realization  of  increasing  exactions  of  taste  on  the  part 
of  readers  which  he  is  confident  the  Mirror  will  satisfy. 

So  books  that  now  their  faces  dare  to  show, 
Must  mettled  be  with  nature  and  with  skill: 
For  nature  causes  stuff  enough  to  flow, 
And  art  the  same  contrives  by  learned  quill 
In  order  good,  and  current  method  still. ^° 

E.  K.^^  heralds  with  enthusiasm  as  a  notable  advance  of_style  in 
English  poetry  the  work  of  the  "new  poet"  of  the  Shepherd's  Calendar, 
whom  he  commends  for  "his  wittiness  in  devising,  his  pithiness  in 
uttering,"  his  "seemly  simplicity,"  his  "due  observing  of  decorum 
everywhere,"  the  knitting  of  his  words  "so  short  and  intricate,  and  the 
whole  period  and  compass  of  speech  so  delightsome  for  the  roundness, 
and  so  grave  for  the  strangeness."     He  is  disturbed,  however,  by  the 

'  Meres,  Palladis  Tamia,  Smith,  ii,  312. 

*  Faery  Queen,  II,  iii,  44.  Such  refinement  would  not  be  joked  about  as  it  was 
with   Chaucer    {Franklin's    Tale,    288-291): 

Til   that  the  brighte   sonne  lost  his  hewe. 
For  thorisonte  has  reft  the  sonne  his  lyght,  — 
This  is  as  muche  to  seye,  as  it  was  nyght. 

»  Haslewood  ed.,  i,  350. 

'"/&.,  13.  Sidney  accounts  the  work  "meetly  furnished  of  beautiful  parts"; 
and  Edward  Hake  commends  its  "stately-proportioned  vein  of  the  heroic  style" 
(Smith,  i,   196,  226). 

"  Epist.   Ded.   Shepherd's  Calendar. 


form:   style;  diction;  verse  145 

fear  that  the  new  poet's  beauties  and  excellencies  will  not  be  appreciated 
and  complains  bitterly  of  those  who,  like  blind  moles  being  themselves 
unable  to  see  and  understand  such  merits,  straightway  deem  all  "to  be 
senseless  and  not  at  all  to  be  understood."  Still  more  shameful  are 
those  currish  dogs  in  the  manger  who  have  such  "base  regard  and 
bastard  judgment,  that  they  will  not  only  themselves  not  labor  to 
garnish  and  beautify"  their  native  speech  but  also  repine  that  it  should 
be  embeUished  by  others.  But  E.  K.  has  faith  in  the  power  of  his  author 
and,  reiterating  his  praises  and  declaring  that  "what  in  most  English 
writers  useth  to  be  loose,  and  as  it  were  ungirt,  in  this  author  is  well 
grounded,  finely  framed,  and  strongly  trussed  up  together,"  he  takes 
much  satisfaction  in  the  thought  that  the  work  will  utterly  discredit  the 
inferior  productions  of  the  jangling,  boastful  rimesters  and  set  a  new 
standard   for    English   poetry. 

This  differentiation  of  his  work  from  that  of  other  and  inferior  writers 
seems  to  have  been  what  Spenser  himself  most  desired.  Wishing  to 
establish  a  new  standard  of  poetic  style  and  taste,  he  deprecates  the 
crudeness  of  contemporary  versifiers  and  sets  for  himself  the  most  fastidi- 
ous ideals,  fearing  lest  his  Shepherd's  Calendar  might  seem  "  too  base  for 
his  excellent  lordship,"  apologizing  for  the  rudeness  of  his  rustic  muse  in 
the  Faery  Queen,  and  excusing  the  simple  device  and  mean  composition 
of  his  Mother  Hubberd's  Tale.  There  is  more  than  convention  in  this 
modesty  and  this  exaltation  of  poetic  standards,  and  Spenser's  scorn  for 
the  manglers  of  poetry  with  their  foolish  rimes. 

Without  regard,  or  due  decorum  kept,^^ 

is  evidently  genuine;  he  was  interested  not  only  in  his  own  success  but 
also  in  the  elevation  of  the  poetic  art  of  his  nation. 

Gabriel  Harvey,  Spenser's  early  literary  counselor,  expresses  ideals  of 
poetic  style  that  reflect  his  aristocratic  pedantry.     Spenser's  Dreams  he 

likes  "  passingly  well because  they  savor  of  that  singular 

extraordinary  vein"  that  he  "ever  fancied  most,  and  in  a  manner  ad- 
mired only,  in all  the  most  delicate  and  fine  conceited 

Grecians  and  Italians. "  The  special  reason  for  his  admiration,  revealing 
his  general  attitude,  is  that  he  finds  the  "chiefest  endeavor  and  drift"  of 
these  writers  "was  to  have  nothing  vulgar,"  but  rather  everything  "in 
lively  hyperbolical  amplifications,  rare,  quaint,  and  odd  in  every  point, 
and a   degree   or   two above   the   reach 

12  Tears  of  the  Muses,  1.  214. 


146  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

and  compass  of  a  common  scholar's  capacity. '"''  Thus  Harvey  wrote  to 
Spenser  at  the  beginning  of  the  latter's  Hterary  career.  Twelve  years 
later  his  ideals  had  not  changed:  "The  right  novice  of  pregnant  and 
aspiring  conceit,"  he  writes,  "will  not  overskip  any  precious  gem  of 
invention  or  any  beautiful  flower  of  elocution  that  may  richly  adorn  or 
gallantly  bedeck  the  trimmed  garland  of  his  budding  style."  He 
admires  the  exquisite  forms  of  speech  of  foreign  poets,  especially  honoring 
Petrarch's  work  as  "the  grace  of  art,  a  precious  tablet  of  rare  conceits." 
"A  pithy  filed  sentence,"  he  thinks,  "is  to  be  embraced  whosoever  is  the 
author,"  and  "right  artificiality,"  at  which  he  himself  "once  aimed  to 
the  uttermost"  of  his  "slender  capacity,"  is  not  mad-brained  or  ridicu- 
lous, but  delicate,  gracious,  exquisite.^^ 

One  of  the  first  critics  to  rise  in  protest  against  the  growing  worship  of 
conceits  and  " hvperbolical  amplifications"  of  poetic  style  is  Sir  Philip 
Sidney,  the  model  of  courtly  elegance  whose  refined  taste  most  men  of 
letters  fain  would  gratify.     Deprecating  the  conception  of  poetry  that 

"  Letter  to  Spenser  (1579-80),  Smith,  i,  114-115.  It  is  of  interest  to  note  a  differ- 
ent attitude  at  the  end  of  the  century  in  such  writers  as  the  satirists  Marston  and  Hall. 
Both  feel  called  upon  to  defend  clearness  —  doubtless  because  of  the  increasing  popular 
audience  and  change  of  taste  —  against  the  conventional  obscurity  of  style  deemed 
proper  in  satire.  "  Know,  I  hate  to  affect  too  much  obscurity  and  harshness,  because 
they  profit  no  sense,"  writes  Marston.  And  complaining  of  those  who  term  "all 
satires  bastard  which  are  not  palpably  dark,"  he  declares:  "I  cannot,  nay,  I  will  not 
delude  your  sight  with  mists;  yet  I  dare  defend  my  plainness  against  the  verjuiceface 
of  the  crabbed 'st  satirist  that  ever  stuttered"  (Pref.  Scourge  of  Villainy).  Hall 
answers  the  cavil  that  may  be  made  against  his  apparent  "stooping  to  the  low  reach 
of  the  vulgar"  with  the  excuse  that  he  has  been  forced  somewhat  to  forego  elegant 
obscurity  because  readers  are  becoming  too  dainty  to  break  hard  shells.  "Let  me  be 
plain,  with  a  hope  of  profit",  he  says,  "rather  than  purposely  obscure,  only  for  a  bare 
name's  sake"  (Postscript  to  Satires).  Daniel  in  his  Musophilus  wisely  counsels 
clearness,  declaring,  without  the  reluctance  of  Hall,  that  it  is  the  necessary  alternative 
if  a   poet   would   be   heard: 

For   not   discreetly   to   compose   our   parts, 
Unto  the  frame  of  men  (which  we  must  be) 
Is  to  put  off  ourselves  and  make  our  arts 
Rebels    to    nature    and    society, 
Whereby  we  come  to  bury  our  deserts, 
In  the  obscure  grave  of  singularity. 

Chapman  thinks  that  "obscurity  in  affectation  of  words  and  indigested  conceits  is 
pedantical  and  childish;  but  where  it  shroudeth  itself  in  the  heart  of  his  subject,  uttered 
with  fitness  of  figure  and  expressive  epithets,  with  that  darkness  I  will  still  labor  to  be 
shrouded"  (SchelUng,  Literature  during  the  Lifetime  of  Shakespeare,  p.  323). 
"Smith,  ii,  234,  235,  260. 


form:   style;  diction;  verse  147 

fixes  attention  merely  on  the  "outside  of  it,"  he  rebukes  ahke  the  ex- 
travagances of  Euphuists  and  Petrarchists.  Style  in  his  view,  instead  of 
being  extraneous  and  superimposed,  should  emanate  as  the  natural 
expression  of  a  writer's  thoughts  and  feelings  inspired  by  his  subject. 
The  reason  why  "divers  smally  learned  courtiers"  possess  "a  more 
sound  style"  than  "some  professors  of  learning,"  he  thinks,  is  "that  the 
courtier,  following  that  which  by  practice^  he  findeth  fittest  to  nature, 
therein  (though  he  know  it  not)  doth  according  to  art:  where  the  other, 

using  art  to  show  art,  and  not  to  hide  art flyeth  from 

nature,  and  indeed  abuseth  art.  "^^  Further  meditating  upon  the  real 
source  of  beauty  and  power  in  poetic  art,  and  disgusted  with  the  practice 
of  contemporary  poets,  Sidney  in  entering  upon  the  composition  of  his 
own  sonnet  sequence  concludes: 

You  that  do  search  for  every  purUng  spring 
Which  from  the  ribs  of  old  Parnassus  flows, 
And  every  flower,  not  sweet  perhaps,  which  grows 
Near  thereabouts,  into  your  poesy  wring; 
Ye  that  do  dictionary's  method  bring 
Into  your  rimes  running  in  rattling  rows; 
You  that  poor  Petrarch's  long-deceased  woes 
With  new-born  sighs  and  denizen'd  wit  do  sing; 

"  Apology,  Smith,  i,  203.  Master  Cheke  once  impressed  Ascham  by  observing 
that  the  reason  why  Sallust  is  not  "purest  in  propriety  of  words,  nor  choicest  in  aptness 
of  phrases,  nor  the  best  in  framing  of  sentences"  is  that  in  his  writing  "is  more  art  that 
nature,  and  more  labor  than  art:  and  in  his  labor  also  too  much  toil,  as  it  were,  with 
an  uncontented  care  to  write  better  than  he  could,  a  fault  common  to  very  many 
men"  {Schoolmaster,  Smith,  i,  40).  It  is  of  interest  to  find  that  John  Lyly  attributes 
this  fault,  which  he  exploited,  to  the  taste  of  his  day.  "It  is  a  world  to  see",  he  says, 
"how  EngHsh  men  desire  to  hear  finer  speech  than  the  language  will  allow,  to  eat 
finer  bread  than  is  made  of  wheat,  to  wear  finer  cloth  than  is  wrought  of  wool"  (Epist. 
Ded.,  Euphues,  the  Anatomy  of  Wit).  Similar  tendencies  are  reprobated  by  Jonson. 
"Now  nothing  is  good",  he  complains,  "that  is  natural;  right  and  natural  language 
seems  to  have  least  of  the  wit  in  it;  that  which  is  writhed  and  tortured  is  counted  the 

more  exquisite Nothing  is  fashionable  till  it  be  deformed;  and  this  is 

to  write  like  a  gentleman.  AH  must  be  affected  and  preposterous"  {Discoveries, 
p.  21).  Both  gentlemen  and  scholars  are  offenders  in  these  far-fetched  affectations 
of  expression  as  is  comically  shown  in  the  caricatures  in  Love's  Labor's  Lost,  where 
one  of  the  points  of  Shakespeare's  humor  is  to  make  the  pedant  Holofernes  censure 
in  his  own  high-flown  verbosity  the  fantastical  bombast  of  Don  Armado.  Daniel  in 
his  Panegyric  Congratulatory,  addressed  to  James  I  on  his  accession,  deplores  general 
tendencies  toward  "wanton  and  superfluous  bravery"  and  expresses  hope  of  a 
return  "from  out  these  foreign  sins"  to  "our  ancient  native  modesty". 


148  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OP  POETRY 

You  lake  wrong  ways;  those  far-fet  helps  be  such 
As  do  bewray  a  want  of  inward  touch. ^^ 

The  only  way  to  success  in  an  art  that  depends  first  of  all  upon  this 
"inward  touch,"  he  finds  from  his  own  experience,  is  to  "look  in  thy 
heart  and  write."  The  figures  and  graces  of  style  will  have  naturalness 
and  force  only  when  the  imagination  is  animated  by  a  stir  of  emotion. 
Although  Sidney  in  showing  the  "spots  of  the  common  infection 
among  the  most  part  of  writers"  graciously  includes  himself  as  "sick 
among  the  rest,"  he  consciously  and  persistently  resists  the  prevalent 
malady  in  his  own  work  as  a  poet. 

Let  dainty  wits  cry  on  the  Sisters  nine, 

That,  bravely  masked,  their  fancies  may  be  told; 

Or,  Pindar's  apes,  flaunt  they  in  phrases  fine, 

Enam'ling  with  pied  flowers  their  thoughts  of  gold; 

Or  else  let  them  in  statelier  glory  shine. 

Ennobling  new  found  tropes  with  problems  old; 

Or  with  strange  similes  enrich  each  line, 

Of  herbs  or  beasts  which  Ind  or  Afric  hold.^^ 

1"  Sonnet  XV.     Cp.  Marston  (Works,  Bullen,  iii,  278): 

His    chamber    hang'd    about    with    elegies, 
With  sad  complaints  of  his  love's  miseries; 
His  windows  strewed  with  sonnets,  and  the  glass 
Drawn  full  of  love-knots.     I  approached  the  ass, 
And  straight  he  weeps,  and  sighs  some  sonnet  out 
To  his  fair  love!  And  then  he  goes  about 
For  to  perfume   her  rare  perfection 
With  some  sweet-smelling  pink  epitheton. 

Lodge  makes  Rosalind  smile  "at  the  sonnetoes,  canzones,  madrigals,  rounds  and 
roundelays  that  these  pensive  patients  pour  out,  when  their  eyes  are  more  full  of  wan- 
tonness than  their  hearts  of  passions holding  amo  in  their  tongues, 

when  their  thoughts  come  at  haphazard,  write  that  they  be  wrapped  in  an  endless 

labyrinth   of   sorrow,   when they  only  have   their   humors  in   their 

inkpot". 

"  Sonnet  IH.      Drayton,  who  is  not  pleased    with  Lyly's  ridiculous  tricks,  says 
(Chalmers'  English  Poets,  iv,  399)  that  Sidney 

did    first    reduce 
Our  tongue  from  Lyly's  writing  then  in  use, — 
Talking  of  stones,  stars,  plants,  of  fishes,  flies, 
Playing   with   words   and   idle   similes. 


form:   style;  diction;   verse  149 

But  from  such  cold  application  of  "fiery  speeches"  he  himself  proposes 
to  abstain.^*  Writers  who  follow  such  methods  show  that  they  have 
"read  lovers'   writings"   rather   "than  that  in   truth   they  feel   those 

passions,  which  easily may  be  bewrayed  by  that  same 

forcibleness,  or  Energia  (as  the  Greeks  call  it)  of  the  writer."  The  pity 
is  that  by  these  superficial  and  false  ideals  and  practices  "we  miss  the 
right  use  of  the  material  point  of  poesy.  "^^ 

Sidney,  however,  notwithstanding  his  reprehension  of  artificial 
ornamentation,  like  the  other  critics  strongly  desires  "to  beautify  our 
mother  tongue"  and  to  free  English  poetry  from  the  stigma  of  crudeness 
and  barbarousness.     Although  his  heart  is  moved  by   the  ballad  of 

^*  Cp.  Shakespeare,  who  in  the  last  act  of  Love's  Labor's  Lost  (V,  ii,  406)  causes 
Biron  to  reform: 

Taffeta   phrases,    silken    terms   precise, 
Three-piled   hyperboles,    spruce   affectation, 
Figures  pedantical;   these  summer- flies 
Have  blown  me  full  of  maggot  ostentation. 

I  do  forswear  them,  and  I  here  protest 

Henceforth  my  wooing  mind  shall  be  express 'd 
In  russet  yeas  and  honest  kersey  noes. 

His  Troilus  (III,  ii,  181)  also  speaks  sUghtingly  of  the  poverty  of  styhstic  affectation: 

When    their    rimes 
Full  of  protest,  of  oath  and  big  compare, 
Want  similes,  truth  tir'd  with  iteration. 

Cassio  says  of  Desdamona  (II,  i,  63)  that  she  is 

One  that  excels  the  quirks  of  blazoning  pens. 

Shakespeare  in  Sonnet  76  puts  the  question: 

Why  is  my  verse  so  barren  of  new  pride. 

So  far  from  variation  or  quick  change? 

Why  with  the  time  do  I  not  glance  aside 

To  new-found  methods  and  to  compounds  strange? 

And  in  Sonnet  82  he  protests  against  the  "gross  painting"  of  rival  poets, 

when    they    have    devis'd 
What  strained  touches  rhetoric  can  lend. 

In  Sonnet  130  he  disdains  the  false  similes  of  convention: 


My  mistress'  eyes  are  nothing  like  the  sun     .     . 
My  mistress,  when  she  walks,  treads  on  the  ground: 
And  yet,  by  heaven,  I  think  my  love  as  rare 
As  any  she  beh'd  with  false  compare. 

Apology,    Smith,    i,    201. 


150  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

Chevy  Chase,  he  does  not  reach  the  viewpoint  of  Daniel  of  accepting 
without  qualification  the  natural  music  of  the  children  of  nature.  He 
must  confess  to  barbarism-"  and  wish  this  old  ballad  of  an  "uncivil  age" 
trimmed  in  the  gorgeous  eloquence  of  Pindar;  and  something  like  gorgeous 
eloquence  he  attempts  in  his  own  Arcadia.  Evidently  he  with  his  age 
was  experiencing  that  conflict  in  the  adjustment  of  ideals  which  occurs 
when  people  undergo  a  rapid  transition  from  one  stage  of  culture  to 
another.  He  was,  however,  a  true  leader  and  guide,  promoting  ad- 
vancement and  checking  attendant  extremes  and  extravagances.  He 
was  in  harmony  with  the  Euphuists  and  Petrarchists  in  their  desire  to 
elevate  the  language  and  refine  poetic  style,  but  he  saw  mischief  and 
disaster  in  their  pernicious  methods  of  attempting  to  realize  this  desire. 
Their  draging  in  of  superfluous  figures  by  way  of  external  ornamentation, 
constructing  ornament  instead  of  ornamenting  construction,  serves  but 
to  oversway  "  the  memory  from  the  purpose. "  By  their  "courtesan-like 
painted  aflfectations, "  their  winter-starved  figures  and  flowers,^^  they 
but  make  poetry  ridiculous.  Desiring  the  highest  possible  excellence, 
Sidney  insists  that  any  real  and  abiding  distinction  of  style  must  be 
based  upon  something  more  natural  and  vital  than  mere  verbal  jugglery 
and  superficial  decoration. 

King  James  VI,  "a  royal  rhetorician,"  in  his  "sonnet  deciphering  the 
perfect  poet"  expresses  his  own  aspiration  to  "obtain  the  laurel  tree," 
one  of  the  requirements  being  to  compose 

With  skillfulness  and  figures  which  proceed 
From  Rhetoric,  with  everlasting  fame. 

In  his  treatise  on  verse  he  devotes  a  short  chapter^^  to  ornamentation, 
directing  poets  to  mark  "three  special  ornaments com- 
parisons, epithets,  and  proverbs."  He  adds  to  this  a  little  chapter  on 
the  "figure  of  repetition,"  which  "sometimes  used  decorates  the  verse 
very  much"  and  it  may  "be  comely  to  repeat  such  a  word  eight  or  nine 
times  in  a  verse."  To  the  ornament  that  he  terms  comparison  he 
applies  the  principle  of  decorum,  cautioning  the  poet  to  take  heed  that 
his  comparisons  "be  so  proper  for  the  subject  that  neither  they  be  over 
base,  if  your  subject  be  high neither  your  comparison  be 

^  Addison  "  must beg  leave  to  dissent  from  so  great  an  authority 

as  that  of  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  in  the  judgment  which  he  has  passed  as  to  the  rude  style 
and  evil  apparel  of  this  antiquated  song". 

"Smith,    i,    202,    203. 

22  Smith,  i,  211. /&.,  219. 


form:   style;  diction;  verse  151 

high  when  your  subject  is  base But  let  such  a  mutual 

correspondence  and  similitude  be  betwixt  them  as  it  may  appear  to  be  a 
meet  comparison  for  such  a  subject,  and  so  shall  they  each  one  decorate 
the  other."  Avoid  devices  made  threadbare  by  other  poets.  One 
device  for  the  difficult  problem  of  praising  your  Love  is  to  "say  that  your 
wits  are  so  small,  and  your  utterance  so  barren,  that  you  cannot  describe 
any  part  of  her  worthily. "  Seek  variety  in  your  figurative  terms;  if  you 
call  the  sun  Titan  one  time,  "call  him  Phoebus  or  Apollo  the  other  time. " 
Webbe  has  the  prevalent  aspiration  toward  refinement  of  style,  and 
though  acknowledging  with  regret  that  English  speech  "has  not  fully 
avoided  the  reproach  of  barbarousness  in  poetry, "  he  has  faith,  in  view  of 
the  work  of  contemporary  writers,  that  it  may  gradually  "be  brought  to 
the  very  majesty  of  a  right  heroical  verse.  "^^  To  this  end  he  exhorts 
men  of  poetic  talent  to  aid  in  so  adorning  and  beautifying  the  art  as 
utterly  to  discredit  the  rabble  of  bald  rimers.  He  is,  however,  much 
attracted  by  artifices  and  conceits  and  his  ideas  in  behalf  of  poetic  orna- 
ment and  refinement  are  in  general  superficial,  differing  widely  from  those 
of  Sidney.  He  is  an  ardent  admirer  of  Master  John  Lyly  and  the  "  witty 
discourses  of  his  Euphues,"  whose  "gallant  tropes"  highly  gratify  his 
sense  of  elegance.  In  like  manner  he  would  adorn  poetry  with  "brave 
devices,"  "dainty  morsels, "and  "singular  inventions " ;^^  and  he  is  sure 
that  it  would  be  worthy  his  travail  if  he  could  report  the  "sundry  kinds 
of  rare  devices  and  pretty  inventions  which  come  from  the  line  poetical 
vein  of  many  in  strange  and  unaccustomed  manner."  Of  these  devices 
he  mentions  the  "turning  of  verses,  the  infolding  of  words,  the  fine 
repetitions,  the  clerkly  conveying  of  contraries,  and  many  such  like." 
He  calls  upon  his  readers,  for  example,  to  admire  "the  rueful  song  of 
Colin  sung  by  Cuddie  in  the  Shepherd's  Calendar,  where  you  shall  see  a 

singular  rare  device  of  a  ditty  framed  upon six  words 

which  are  most  prettily  turned."     Among  other  pleasing 

devices,  he  illustrates  one  in  which  the  last  words  of  several  verses  make 
"a  pretty  sense"  summing  up  that  of  the  verses  themselves.  Of  these 
"echoes"  he  knows  "very  dainty  pieces  of  work"  among  some  of  the 

finest  poets  in  London,  "who  for  the  rareness  of  them 

will  not  let  them  come  abroad."     There  are  "infinite  sorts"  of  such 

^  Discourse,  Smith,  i,  228,  256.  Webbe  delights  in  Chaucer,  who,  considering  his 
time,  is  the  "perfect  shape  of  a  right  poet",  though  "his  style  may  seem  blunt  and 
coarse  to  many  fine  English  ears  at  these  days"  (Smith,  i,  241). 

'*Ib.,    244,    245,    256. 


152  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

"fine  conveyances much  frequented  by  versifiers,"  and 

Webbe  recommends  them  to  the  "consideration  of  every  pleasant  headed 
poet,"  for  "many  others  may  be  devised  of  Hke  sort. "^^  However,  he 
encourages  only  those  of  learning  and  talent  to  aid  in  the  adornment  of 
poetry,  for  others  attempting  to  garnish  the  art  with  their  devices  will 
rather  corrupt  it  "with  fantastical  errors." 

In  Puttenham,  who  considers  poetry  "a  manner  of  utterance  and 
language  of  extraordinary  phrase,"  more  than  in  any  of  the  other  critics 
is  reflected  the  increasing  interest  in  complexity  of  style  that  was  dis- 
placing the  older  emphasis  on  allegory;  and  more  than  any  other  critic  he 
takes  it  upon  himself  to  set  forth  the  "commendable  fashions  of  language 
and  style."  In  the  poet's  "manner  of  language  and  style,"  he  affirms, 
lies  his  power  "to  utter  with  pleasure  and  delight";^®  and  "requisite  to 
the  perfection"  of  his  art  is  the  "manner  of  exornation,"  which  rests  in 
so  fashioning  his  language  and  style  that  it  may  delight  mind  and  ear 
"with  a  certain  novelty  and  strange  manner  of  conveyance"  by  which  it 
is  disguised  "no  Httle  from  the  ordinary  and  accustomed"  and  made 
more  decent  and  agreeable  "to  any  civil  ear  and  understanding." 
English  poetry  then,  in  order  to  become  free  from  the  reproach  of  bar- 
barism and  take  its  proper  place  in  the  social  and  intellectual  life  of  the 
nation,  must  be  clad  in  its  "kindly  clothes  and  colors"  and  made  attract- 
ive to  the  highest  sense  of  beauty  and  elegance.  Just  as  "great  madams 
of  honor"  think  themselves  more  pleasing  "in  their  richest  attire"  than 
in  "plain  and  simple  apparel"  and  wanting  their  "courtly  habiliments" 
would  be  "out  of  countenance,"  even  so  "our  vulgar  poesy,"  naked  and 
bare,  unless  meetly  appareled,  "artificially  handled,"  and  changed 
"from  the  common  course  of  ordinary  speech  and  capacity  of  the  vulgar 
judgment,"  cannot  "show  itself  either  gallant  or  gorgeous"  or  commend- 
ably  beautiful.-' 

Puttenham's  conception  of  the  outward  garb  or  style  of  poetry, 
however,  is  much  less  superficial  than  that  of  Wel3be.  In  an  elaborate 
definition  he  declares  that  "style  is  a  constant  and  continued  phrase  or 

term extending  to  the  whole  tale  or  process  of  the  poem. " 

It  "is,  of  words,  speeches,  and  sentences  together,  a  certain  contrived 
form  and  quality,  many  times  natural  to  the  writer,  many  times  his 
peculiar  by  election  and  art. "     "And  because  this  continued  course  and 

=6  Ih.,  276,  278. 

-^  AH  of  Emlish  Poesy,  Smith,  ii,  9,  181.  191 

^  Ih.,  142-143. 


form:   style;  diction;  verse  153 

manner showeth    the    matter    and    disposition    of    the 

writer's  mind,"  style  has  been  called  "the  image  of  man,  mentis  charac- 
ter,^' for  a  writer's  "inward  conceits  be  the  metal  of  his  mind,  and  his 
manner  of  utterance  the  very  warp  and  woof  of  his  conceits. "  Yet  this 
is  not  altogether  the  case,  for  every  man's  style  is  or  ought  to  be  con- 
formable also  to  his  matter  and  subject. ^^ 

Obsessed  by  the  doctrine  of  decorum, ^^  Puttenham  attempts  to 
recondle  individuality  of  style  and  conformity  to  subject-matter  by  the 
idea  that  writers  "choose  their  subjects  according  to  the  metal  of  their 
minds,"  a  high-minded  man  choosing  "lofty  matter,"  a  modest  mind 
"moderate  matters,"  and  a  base  one  "matter  base  and  low."  At  any 
rate,  in  order  "to  have  the  style  decent  and  comely,"  it  behooves  the 
poet  "to  follow  the  nature  of  his  subject,"  adapting  his  style  thereto, 
"having  regard  to  the  decency,  which  is  the  chief  praise  of  any  writer," 
Matters  high  and  stately  concerning  divine  things  or  the  deeds  and  for- 
tunes of  princes  require  a  style  elevated  "by  choice  of  words,  phrases, 
sentences,  and  figures,  high,  lofty,  eloquent,  and  magnific  in  proportion. " 

Matters    concerning    "lawyers,    gentlemen and    honest 

citizens"  should  be  given  a  style  "  of  smoothness  and  pleasant  modera- 
tion." The  doings  of  common  artificers,  servingmen,  laborers,  and 
shepherds  should  have  a  low,  "simple  manner  of  utterance,  creeping 
rather  than  climbing,"  as  pastoral  poesy  with  its  "hom.ely  persons"  and 
"rude  speeches";  for  with  these  men  "loves,  marriages,  quarrels, 
contracts,  and  other  behaviors"  are  not  "like  high  nor  do  require  to  be 
set  forth  with  the  like  style,  but  every  one  in  his  degree  and  decency."^" 
Nor,  now  considering  the  status  of  readers,  should  the  rude  and  barbar- 
ous be  given  such  music  as  the  learned  and  delicate.  Thus,  with  reference 
to  writer,  subject,  and  reader  Puttenham  would  have  st34e  ruled  by 

^  lb.,  153-154.  "The  phrase  is  to  the  matter",  says  Isabella,  Measure  for  Measure, 
V,  i,  90. 

^'  He  had  written  a  book  De  Decoro  in  which  might  be  seen  "both  parts",  decorum 
of  speech  and  of  behavior,  "handled  more  exactly"  (Smith,  ii,  181).  "The  obser- 
vance of  decorum  necessitated  the  maintenance  of  the  social  distinctions  which  formed 
the  basis  of  renaissance  life  and  renaissance  literature"  (Spingarn,  Lit.  Crit.,  87). 
Ascham  lays  stress  upon  it  as  a  principle  of  broad  application,  declaring  that  it  is  to 
be  scrupulously  observed  "in  every  matter  to  be  spoken  or  written",  and  that  "as 
it  is  the  hardest  point  in  all  learning,  so  it  is  the  fairest  and  only  mark  that  scholars  in 
all  their  study  must  always  shoot  at,  if  they  purpose  another  day  to  be  either  found 
in  religion  or  wise  and  discreet  in  any  vocation  of  the  commonwealth"  {Schoolmaster, 
Arber,  p.  99). 

3°  Smith,  ii,   155,  157,  158. 


154  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

decorum.  And  this  decorum  or  aristocracy  of  style,  as  the  aristocracy  of 
men,  he  grounds  in  nature  herself.  This  "seemliness"  or  "decency," 
"the  good  grace  of  everything  in  his  kind,"  "this  lovely  conformity 

hath  nature  herself  first  most  carefully  observed  in  all  her 

own  works,"  and  grafted  it  "in  the  appetites  of  every  creature."  It  is 
therefore  "the  line  and  level  for  all  good  makers  to  do  their  business 
by. "^^  Poets  who  fail  to  observe  these  distinctions  of  style  "do  utterly 
disgrace  their  poesy  and  show  themselves  nothing  skillful  in  their  art.  "^* 
An  essential  element  for  the  refinement  of  poetic  style  is  ornament, 
and  ornament — comprehensively  considered,  outwardly  yielding  smooth- 
ness and  melody,  "luster  and  light,"  and  "inwardly,"  by  its  power  to 
evoke  thought  and  feeling,  "working  a  stir  to  the  mind" — Puttenham 
seems  almost  to  regard  as  comprising  style  itself.  It  is  the  "beautiful 
habit   of   language   or   style,   and   figurative   speeches   the   instrument 

wherewith    we    burnish    our    language whence    finally 

resulteth  a  long  and  continued  phrase  or  manner  of  writing  or  speech, 
which  we  call  by  the  name  of  style. "  The  principal  means  of  ornament, 
which  must  delight  and  allure  the  mind  as  well  as  ear,  are  "figures  and 
figurative  speeches, "  the  flowers  and  colors  of  the  poet's  art.^^  Although 
a  style  may  be  "pure  and  cleanly"  and  sufficiently  pleasing  "for  the 
ordinary  use  of  speech,"  yet  it  is  not  "so  well  appointed  for  all  purposes 
of  the  excellent  poet  as  when  it  is  gallantly  arrayed  in  all  his  colors  which 
figure  can  set  upon  it."^^  Just  as  men  are  charmed  by  the  courtly 
manners  and  habiliments  of  social  life,  so  must  the  poet  appeal  to  their 
sense  of  grace  and  elegance  by  the  beauty  and  gallantness  of  his  language 
and  style.  Significantly  enough  figurative  speech  is  to  Puttenham,  as  to 
Elizabethans  in  general,  a  charming  "novelty  of  language."  But 
though  he  finds  that  figures  are  pleasingly  "estranged  from  the  ordinary 

"76.,  173,  174. 

«2  Ih.,  155.     Cp.  Chapman  {Plays,  ed.  R.  H.  Shepherd,  p.  185) : 

Worthiest   poets 
Shun  common  and  plebeian  forms  of  speech, 
Every  illiberal  and  affected  phrase 
To  clothe  their  matter  and  together  tie 
Matter  and  form,  with  art  and  decency. 

'^  Ih.,  143,  148.  In  addition  to  his  copious  treatment  of  figures  in  the  Art  of  English 
Poesy,  Puttenham  wrote  a  work  entitled  PhilocaJia  in  which  he  dealt  with  the  appli- 
cation of  the  figure  "exargasia"  and  "all  others  mentioned  in  this  book"  (Smith,  ii, 
170). 

^Ib.,    165. 


form:   style;  diction;  verse  155 

habit  and  manner  of  our  daily  talk  and  writing,"  he  declares — getting 
back  to  nature  as  in  his  exposition  of  decorum — that  all  "are  but  ob- 
servations of  strange  speeches,"  such  as  men  use  naturally  without  art, 
nature  herself  suggesting  figures  in  this  or  that  form,  but  art  aiding  the 
judgment  in  their  use  and  application.^^ 

However  beautiful  figures  may  be  in  themselves,  Puttenham  deems 
that  unless  there  is  due  sense  of  decorum  in  their  application  they  may 
"fall  into  a  deformity."  The  poet  therefore  must  have  "special  regard 
to  all  circumstances  of  the  person,  place,  time,  cause,  and  purpose  he 
hath  in  hand,"  and  also  realize  that  "some  phrases  and  figures  be  only 
peculiar  to  the  high  style,  some  to  the  base  or  mean,  some  common  to  all 
three.  "^^  Although  it  is  "a  great  fault  to  use  figurative  speeches  foolish- 
ly and  indiscreetly,"  the  poet  cannot  avoid  censure  by  not  using  figures 
at  all,  for  it  is  "no  less  an  imperfection"  to  make  his  work  like  "ordinary 
talk,  than  which  nothing  can  be  more  unsavory  and  far  from  all  civility. " 
Because  of  the  necessary  witty  distinctions  and  nice  discriminations, 
"the  chief  praise  and  cunning  of  our  poet  is  in  the  discreet  using  of  his 
figures.  "^^ 

Although  Puttenham  is  more  complacent  than  Sidney  toward  the 
artificial  devices  of  style,  including  in  his  extended  treatment  even 
"ocular  examples"  of  "geometrical  figures, "^^  he  does  not  regard  the 
function  of  ornament  and  figure  as  merely  that  of  external  decoration. 
The  ornaments  of  style  not  only  delight  by  their  "goodly  outward  show, " 
they  also  work  inwardly ,^^  having  power  to  stir  the  mind  and  heart  and 
inveigle  man's  judgment  and  prompt  his  action.  This  latter  quality  the 
Greeks  called  Energia,  "because  it  wrought  with  a  strong  and  virtuous 
operation"'**' — it  is  the  same  Energia  or  forcibleness  that  Sidney  recom- 

^^Ib.,   182. 

^^  Ih.,  159,  161.  Cp.  Ben  Jonson  on  decorum  in  the  use  of  figures,  Discoveries, 
p.   60. 

" /6.,    143,    144.     Puttenham    considers    Chaucer's    "similitudes 

such  as  cannot  be  amended"  (Smith,  ii,  64). 

^  lb.,  95.  Watson,  a  borrower  of  ItaUan  conceits  and  affectations,  and  one  of 
the  most  popular  poets  of  his  time,  describes  his  seventy-first  sonnet  as  "a  Pasquine 
Pillar  erected  in  despite  of  love".  Addison  {Spectator,  No.  58)  happily  ridicules  "this 
fashion  of  false  wit revived  by  several  poets  of  the  last  age",  mention- 
ing in  particular  George  Herbert. 

^'  "Rhetoric  and  music",  thought  Hawes,  "produce  not  only  order  in  words  and 
harmony  in  sounds,  but  also  order  in  man's  Ufa  and  harmony  in  his  soul"  {Cambridge 
History,  ii,   262). 

«  Smith,  ii,  148. 


156  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

mends  to  displace  the  affected  conceits  of  "lovers'  writings."  Thus 
Puttenham,  insisting  upon  the  high  importance  of  propriety  or  decorum 
in  all  the  processes  of  poetry  and  recognizing  an  intimate  relationship 
between  subject-matter  and  style,  looks  upon  the  latter  not  only  as  a 
source  of  pleasure  but  also  as  possessing  an  intellectual  and  emotional 
force  that  makes  it  an  important  and  essential  element  in  the  sum  total 
of  poetic  effect. 

Another  writer  who  seeks  to  make  available  for  the  enhancement  of 
English  poetry  all  possible  graces  and  adornments  of  style  is  Sidney's 
friend  Abraham  Fraunce.  With  the  idea  that  "bravery  of  speech 
consisteth  in  tropes  or  turnings,  and  in  figures  or  fashionings, "  he  gives 
in  his  Arcadian  Rhetoric  (1588)  copious  illustrations  from  Homer,  Virgil, 
and  Sir  Philip  Sidney  and  from  Italian,  French,  and  Spanish  writers, 
"confusedly"  inserting  "a  number  of  conceited  verses" — among  them 
verses  from  the  Shepherd's  Calendar  and  the  Faery  Queen,  from  the  latter 
before  it  was  published — to  show  how  "all  their  grace  and  delicacy 
proceedeth  from  the  figures"  that  he  has  expounded.^^ 

The  lively  interest  of  the  critics  of  this  period  in  matters  of  style  is 
further  manifested  by  many  scattering  remarks  of  praise  and  censure. 
Wyatt  and  Surrey  as  the  "first  refiners  of  the  English  tongue,"  the 
"first  reformers  and  polishers,"'*-  are  gratefully  honored  by  all;  Sidney 
and  Spenser  are  highly  extolled,  and  the  efforts  of  less  deserving  writers 
are  duly  acknowledged.  Sir  John  Harington  praises  Turbervile  because 
"when  times  were  yet  but  rude  thy  pen  endeavored  to  polish  barbarism 
with  purer  style,  "''^  Turbervile,  himself  a  deliberate  polisher,  having 
enthusiastically  commended  Surrey  for  banishing  our  "ruder  speech."** 
Stanyhurst,  ridiculed  by  Nash  for  the  "hissed  barbarism"  of  his  "hex- 
ameter fury,  "zealously  applied  himself  in  the  hope  of  beautifying  poetry 
and  advancing  the  "riches  of  our  speech."*^  Harvey  and  Nash,  in  the 
common  cause  of  improvement  and  refinement  of  style,  berate  each  other 
for  defects.  Harvey  hurls  execrations  at  Nash's  poetry,  classing  it  with 
the  doggerel  of  Tarlton  and  Elderton,  but  affectionately  thanks  better 
poets  for  their  studious  endeavors  toward  enriching  and  embellishing 

"Smith,    i,    303    ff. 

«  Smith,  ii,    131,   219. 

*^  D.   Hannay's  Later  Renaissance,   190. 

"  Chalmer's  English  Poets,  ii,   558. 

«  Smith,  i,  138. 


form:   style;  diction;  verse  157 

their  native  tongue.  Nash  repays  the  compliment  by  his  ridicule  of  the 
"crude  humors"  of  Harvey's  "pagan  hexameters."'*^ 

Toward  the  end  of  the  century  expressions  of  aspiration  for  refinement 
of  poetic  style  give  place  somewhat  to  expressions  of  pride  in  achievement. 
Nash  in  1592  makes  the  significant  remark  that  the  poets  have  so 
cleansed  the  language  from  barbarism  that  "the  vulgar  sort"  in  London 
"aspire  to  a  richer  purity  of  speech"  than  is  used  by  the  commonalty  of 
any  other  "nation  under  heaven. "''^  Harvey  gratefully  thanks  famous 
English  poets,  sons  of  the  Muses,  for  their  work  in  refining  the  language, 
"  never  so  furnished  or  embellished  as  of  late.  "^^  Richard  Carew,  writing 
in  the  middle  of  the  last  decade  of  the  century,  finds  the  English  tongue 
especially  "fruitful  and  forcible"  in  metaphor,  none  being  capable  of 
delivering  "a  matter  with  more  variety  than  ours,  both  plainly  and  by 
proverbs  and  metaphors "  ;^^  and  Dr.  Giles  Fletcher,  noting  with  pride 
the  increasing  power  of  the  English  language,  considers  "our  nation 

so    exquisite that    neither    Italy,    Spain, 

nor  France  can  go  beyond  us  for  exact  invention,"  there  being  no  longer 
occasion  for  the  reprehensible  borrowing  of  conceits.^"  Meres  (1598) 
declares  that  it  is  the  work  of  "our  English  poets  which  makes  our 
language  so  gorgeous  and  delectable  among  us";  and  he  honors  a  list, 
comprising  Sidney,  Spenser,  Daniel,  Drayton,  Warner,  Shakespeare, 
Marlowe,  and  Chapman,  by  whom  "the  English  tongue  is  mightily 
enriched  and  gorgeously  invested  in  rare  ornaments  and  resplendent 
habiliments."  Drake,  he  says,  termed  Drayton  "  'golden-mouthed' 
for  the  purity  and  preciousness  of  his  style  and  phrase";  and  "I  say  that 
the  Muses  would  speak  with  Shakespeare's  fine  filed  phrases  if  they  would 
speak  English" — "mellifluous  and  honey- tongued  Shakespeare."^^ 

In  the  early  part  of  the  period,  it  appears,  rhetoricians,  classical 
humanists,  and  devotees  to  renaissance  culture  all  endeavored  to  en- 
courage and  carry  forward  the  highly  applauded  and  much  desired 
refining  and  polishing  of  English  poetry  begun  by  Wyatt  and  Surrey. 
The  earlier  satisfaction  in  allegory  largely  gave  way  to  the  quest  of 
adornment  and  elegance.    Aspirations,  paralleling  those  of  social  life,  to 

«  Smith,   ii,   234,   237. 

"  Works,   McKerrow,  i,    193. 

«  Smith,  ii,  234. 

*'  Excellency  of  the  English  Tongue,  Smith,  ii,  292. 

so  To    the    Reader,    Licia    (1593). 

^^Palladis  Tamia,  Smith,  ii,  310,  315,  316,  318. 


158  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

learn  best  usage  and  to  practice  and  excel  in  it  were  strongly  felt  by  those 
interested  in  poetic  art,  critics  and  poets  being  determined  that  English 
poetry  should  no  longer  suffer  reproach  from  its  plainness  and  baldness 
of  style.  At  first,  however,  their  efforts  were  somewhat  discouraged  by 
the  inability  of  readers  to  comprehend  and  appreciate  the  figurative  and 
decorative  graces  set  before  them;  but  experience  at  banquets  of  dainty 
conceits  and  gallant  inventions  soon  whetted  literary  taste,  and  the 
growing  passion  for  poetical  Euphuisms  and  Petrarchisms  gave  rise  to 
such  extravagances  and  affectations  that  men  of  refined  culture  like 
Sidney  and  Spenser  felt  the  necessity  of  vigorous  protest  in  order  to  save 
poetry  from  ridiculous  degradation.  These  men  seem  to  have  felt 
intuitively  that  in  the  untoward  aspiration  for  superficial  elegance  there 
lurked  seeds  of  disaster — to  be  reaped  later  by  the  "metaphysical" 
school — whose  growth  must  be  checked  in  order  that  the  better  spirit  of 
Elizabethan  poetry  might  come  to  fruition.  True  refinement  of  art, 
they  show,  cannot  be  brought  about  by  apish  imitation  or  mere  extrane- 
ous decoration.  They  believe  that  real  beauty  of  expression,  which  is  a 
deep  force  in  life,  can  come  only  from  men  of  true  poetic  endowment  and 
refined  taste,  capable  of  lofty  thought  and  feeling  and  inspired  by  worthy 
subjects. 
^  It  could  not  be  expected,  however,  that  the  high  ideals  of  poetic 

style  held  by  Sidney  and  Spenser  would  be  embraced  by  the  multitude  of 
inferior  poets  or  even  by  the  less  idealistic  critics.  A  more  generally 
effective  remedy  against  the  crudities  of  rimesters  and  the  extravagances 
of  Euphuists  and  Petrarchists,  because  more  easily  comprehensible  to 
the  offenders  and  more  easily  applicable,  was  the  doctrine  of  decorum  so 
elaborately  and  insistently  expounded  by  the  courtier  critic  Puttenham 
and  so  acceptable  to  the  critics  in  general.  But  decorum  of  style  as 
conceived  by  Puttenham  and  others  does  not  necessarily  clash  with  the 
idealism  of  Sidney  and  Spenser.  For  with  decorum  in  mind  as  the  way 
of  nature,  Puttenham  regards  style  on  the  one  hand  as  the  expression  of 
the  poet's  character,  his  thoughts  and  feelings,  and  on  the  other  as  the 
outgrowth  or  artistic  and  emotional  expression  of  the  subject-matter 
when  adequately  conceived  by  the  poet.  This  indeed  is  not  far  from 
Sidney's  own  view — namely,  that  poetry  should  represent  the  highest 
beauty  of  which  the  soul  of  man  is  capable  and  that  it  should  receive  a 
corresponding  height  and  beauty  of  expression — and  makes  consistent 
the  enthusiastic  praise  accorded  the  work  of  Sidney  and  Spenser  by  the 
advocates  of  decorum.     Theories  of  style  in  this  period  were  in  general 


form:   style;  diction;  verse  159 

flexible  and  readily  subordinated  to  the  esthetic  and  idealistic  spirit  that 
animated  them.  All  gave  way  to  the  simple  creed  that  crudeness  and 
ugliness  are  to  be  avoided  and  condemned  and  refinement  and  beauty  to 
be  sought  and  honored. 

The  generally  tolerant  attitude  of  critics  toward  decorative  and 
figurative  features  of  poetic  style  gaudy  and  unnatural  to  the  taste  of  a 
different  age,  is  not  so  hard  to  understand  when  one  remembers  that  the 
esthetic  emotions  of  the  age  of  Elizabeth  were  pitched  in  another  key. 
The  world  was  younger,  life  was  gayer  and  brighter.  Taste  was  differ- 
ent. Ornaments  of  life  and  literature  that  now  seem  withered  and 
"winter-starved"  then  seemed  fresh  and  beautiful,  not  only  delighting 
the  senses  but  stirring  the  mind  and  heart,  quickening  the  imagination, 
and  thus  accomplishing  the  purposes  of  poetry.  Moreover,  the  move- 
ment toward  ornamentation  and  refinement  of  poetic  style,  involving  at 
once  the  motives  of  gratifying  the  spirit  of  national  emulation  and  class 
distinction  and  of  satisfying  a  newly  stimulated  sense  of  grace  and 
beauty,  was  naturally  bound  to  result  in  excesses  as  well  as  in  excellence. 
Out  of  this  movement,  however,  tempered  by  the  judgment  and  cultured 
taste  of  the  noblest  spirits  of  the  age,  issued,  despite  bubbles  and  froth,  a 
plenteous  stream  of  the  wine  of  pure  poetry, — poetry  that  for  skillful  and 
picturesque  metaphor  and  general  freshness  and  charm  of  verbal  expres- 
sion has  gained  the  enthusiastic  praise  of  the  best  critics  down  to  the 
present  day;  and  that  caused  the  later  Elizabethan  critics  proudly  to 
exult  in  the  possession  of  a  native  poetic  style  which  for  richness,  variety, 
and  general  elegance  might  challenge  comparison  with  that  of  the  best 
ancient  or  modern  tongues. 

II.  Diction 

Owing  to  the  rapid  intellectual  development  of  the  time  and  the 
plastic  state  of  the  language,  one  of  the  great  problems  of  Elizabethan 
men  of  letters  was  that  of  evolving  a  diction  adequate  to  the  correspond- 
ing growth  of  literature.  The  critics  of  poetry,  therefore,  give  earnest 
attention  to  all  matters  of  diction,  no  question  of  words,  long  or  short, 
old  or  new,  high  or  low,  being  deemed  too  trivial  for  consideration;  for  in 
the  questions  of  language,  they  believe,  are  involved  in  large  measure  the 
welfare  and  advancement  of  poetic  art.  The  problem  of  enriching  and 
refining  the  diction  of  poetry  thus  gives  rise  to  much  discussion  as  to  the 
desirability  of  borrowing  from  foreign  languages,  the  restoration  of  older 
native  words,  compounding  of  words  and  new  coinages,  decorum,  and  in 
general  all  questions  concerned  with  the  development  of  a  diction  such 


160  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

as  would  give  English  poetry  the  beauty  and  distinction  of  highest  pos- 
sible artistic  merit. 

Aspirations  for  the  elevation  of  poetic  diction  were  strong  in  both 
England  and  Scotland  as  early  as  the  time  of  Hawes  and  Dunbar. 
Hawes  repeatedly  apologizes  for  his  rude  diction  and  does  his  best  to 
create  an  "aromatic  fume"  of  fine  rhetoric,  and  Dunbar  likewise  en- 
deavors to  "illumine"  the  vernacular  with  pretentious  and  clerkly  terms 
of  Latinity.  The  generally  recognized  starting  point  of  polish  and  re- 
finement of  poetic  diction,  however,  is  in  the  "  stateliness  of  style  removed 
from  the  rude  skill  of  common  ears  "^  to  be  found  in  the  work  of  the  court- 
ly makers  Wyatt  and  Surrey,  who  by  their  intimate  contact  with  the 
literature  of  Italy  had  achieved  a  standard  of  elegance  before  alien  to 
English  poetry. 

Scholars  of  the  early  part  of  the  period  like  Wilson,  Cheke,  and 
Ascham  share  in  the  desire  to  improve  diction,  although  they  see  mis- 
chief in  the  quest  of  elegance  as  manifested  in  excessive  borrowings  from 
foreign  languages  and  establish  a  tradition  of  conservatism  toward 
"inkhorn  terms."  Wilson  reprehends  "counterfeiting  the  King's 
English"  by  the  affectation  of  "oversea  language"  on  the  part  of  return- 
ing travelers,  especially  from  Italy,  some  of  whom  "seek  so  far  for 
outlandish  English  that  they  forget  altogether  their  mothers'  language.  "^ 
In  general  he  disapproves  of  the  use  of  words  too  strange  or  too  old  and 
deplores  the  fact  that  "men  count  it  a  point  of  wit  to  pass  over  such 
words  as  are  at  hand"  for  "such  as  are  far-fetcht  and  translated."^ 
A  similarly  conservative  attitude  is  taken  by  Sir  John  Cheke,  who  prefers 
"the  old  denizened  words"  and  expresses  the  "opinion  that  our  own 
tongue  should  be  written  clean  and  pure,  unmixt  and  unmangled  with 
borrowing  of  other  tongues."  Borrowing,  which  may  lead  to  bank- 
ruptcy, should  be  only  a  last  resort  and  then  with  "  bashfulness.  "^ 
Ascham,  who  is  in  agreement  with  Wilson  and  Cheke  as  regards  inkhorn 
terms  and  importations  from  foreign  languages,  in  general  lays  much 
stress  upon  "propriety  of  words  and  pureness  of  phrases,"  admiring  the 

"pure  fine   talk  of  Rome used  by   the  flower  of   the 

worthiest  nobility,"  and  considering  "proper  and  apt  words"  as  re- 
quisite "for  good  matters"  as  choice  food  for  healthy  bodies.     Men 

'  Tottel,  Pref.  Miscellany. 

-  Einstein's  Italian  Renaissance  in  England,  p.  360. 

^  Carpenter's  Metaphor  and  Simile  in  Elizabethan  Drama,  p.  164. 

^  Letter  to  Thomas  Hoby  (1557)  on  his  translation  of  The  Courtier  (Smith,  i,  357). 


form:   style;  diction;  verse  161 

know  not  what  harm  they  do  learning  who  "care  not  for  words  but  for 
matter,  and  so  make  a  divorce  betwixt  the  tongue  and  the  heart."* 
Elizabeth,  Ascham  is  pleased  to  note,  "is  very  quick  in  pointing  out  a 
far-fetched  word  or  an  affected  phrase,  "^  and  he  would  have  it  understood 
that  she  reprobates  such. 

Gascoigne  cares  for  both  words  and  matter,  but  he  would  have  the 
poet  stand  most  upon  the  excellency  of  his  invention,  "for  it  is  not 
enough  to  roll  in  pleasant  words,  nor  yet  to  thunder  in  rym,  ram,  rufif, " 
nor  "  to  abound  in  apt  vocables  or  epithets,  unless  the  invention  have  in 
it  also  aliquid  sails. '^  Invention  "being  found,  pleasant  words  will 
follow  well  enough  and  fast  enough.  "^  He  advises,  however,  the  use  of 
as  few  polysyllables  as  may  be;  for  since  "  the  most  ancient  English  words 

are  of  one  syllable the  more  monosyllables  that  you  use 

the  truer  Englishman  you  shall  seem,  and  the  less  you  shall  smell  of  the 
inkhorn. "  Moreover,  monosyllables  are  less  cloying  and  better  meet 
the  requirements  of  accent  in  English  verse. ^  The  poet  should  as  much 
as  possible  "eschew  strange  words,  or  obsoleta  and  inusita,'"  though  the 
theme  may  sometimes  give  "just  occasion"  and  such  words  may  be  used, 
if  with  discretion,  to  "draw  attentive  reading."^  Gascoigne,  however, 
must  recognize  that  "shrewd  fellow"  "poeticaUicense"  that  "covereth 
many  faults  in  a  verse,"  making  words  "longer,  shorter,  of  more  sylla- 
bles, of  fewer,  newer,  older,  truer,  falser,"  altering  "all  things  at  pleas- 

^  Schoolmaster,  Smith,  i,  6,  28.  Bacon  a  generation  later  feels  caUed  upon  to  re- 
prove those  who  "hunt  more  after  words  than  matter"  (Saintsbury's  Hist.  CriL,  ii, 
193);  and  Elyot,  before  Ascham,  had  cautioned  that  "they  be  much  abused  that 
suppose  eloquence  to  be  only  in  words  or  colors  of  rhetoric"  {Governor,  Bk.  I,  chap, 
xiii). 

^  Courthope's  Hist.  Eng.  Poetry,  ii,  129. 

'  Notes  of  Instruction,  Smith,  i,  47,  48. 

*  lb.,  51.     In  his  Steel  Glass  (Smith,  i,  160)  he  versifies  in  behalf  of  monosyllables: 

That  Grammar  grudge  not  at  our  English  tongue 
Because  it  stands  by  monosyllaha. 

'  lb.,  52.  A  marginal  note  in  an  unknown  hand  objects:  " Non  placet.  A  greater 
grace  and  majesty  in  longer  words,  so  they  be  current  EngHsh.  Monosyllables  are 
good  to  make  up  a  gobbHng  and  huddling  verse"  (Smith,  i,  360).  Shakespeare  evi- 
dently realizes  the  value  of  both  long  and  short  words.  He  causes  Biron  to  say  (Love 's 
Labor's  Lost,  V,  ii,  763): 

Honest  plain  words  best  pierce  the  ear  of  grief. 


162  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

ure.  "^^  In  putting  forth  his  own  works  he  declares  that  he  has  always 
been  of  the  opinion  "  that  it  is  not  unpossible  either  in  poems  or  in  prose 
to  write  both  compendiously  and  perfectly  in  our  English  tongue";  and 
therefore,  though  he  does  not  claim  "the  name  of  English  poet,"  it 
affords  him  satisfaction  that  he  has  "more  faulted  in  keeping  the  old 
English  words  {quamuis  iam  obsoleta)  than  in  borrowing  of  other  langua- 
ges such  epithets  and  adjectives  as  smell  of  the  inkhorn. "  Although  he 
has  been  "sometimes  constrained  for  the  cadence  of  rimes,  or  per 
licentiam  poeticam,  to  use  an  inkhorn  term  or  a  strange  word,"  yet  he 
hopes  that  it  will  be  apparent  that  he  has  had  "rather  regard  to  make 
our  native  language  commendable  in  itself,  than  gay  with  the  feathers  of 
strange  birds."" 

E.  K.,  who  as  herald  of  the  new  poet  of  the  Shepherd's  Calendar  feels 
called  upon  to  explain  its  departures  in  language,^-  is  the  first  English 
critic  who  pronouncedly  recognizes  and  defends  a  "poetic  diction." 
The  words  of  the  Calendar,  he  grants,  are  "something  hard,  and  of  most 
men  unused,  yet  both  English,  and  also  used  of  most  excellent  authors 
and  most  famous  poets. "  He  suggests  several  reasons  for  such  unusual 
diction.  Strange  and  ancient  words  may  have  been  used  as  "fittest  for 
such  rustical  rudeness  of  shepherds"  or  "because  such  old  and  obsolete 
words  are  most  used  of  country  folk. "     At  any  rate  they  are  not  amiss 

and  "bring  great  grace  and authority  to  the  verse"; 

and  E.  K.  agrees  with  "the  best  learned"  that  "ancient  and  solemn 
words  are  a  great  ornament,"  suggesting  antiquity  and  giving  the  effect 
of  "gravity  and  importance" — as  TuUy  says,  ofttimes  an  ancient  word 
makes  the  st3dc  seem  grave  and  reverend. ^^    Old  words,  however,  must 

^°  lb.,  53.  "For  example,  ydone  for  done,  adowne  for  downe,  orecome  for  overcome, 
fane  for  taken,  power  for  powre,  heaven  for  lieavn,  thewes  for  good  parts  or  good  qualities, 

and  a  number  of  other needless  to  rehearse",  since  the  reader  may 

for  himself  "espy  such  advantages".  Harvey  comments  (Smith,  i,  361),  "All  these 
in  Spenser  and  many  like:  but  with  discretion:  and  tolerably,  though  sometime  not 
greatly  commendably"  —  and  also  states  that  "Spenser  hath  revived  imcoidk,  whilom, 
of  yore,  forlhy".  See  Gloss  to  Shepherd's  Calendar  for  "poetical  additions"  noted  as 
such  by  E.  K. 

"  Pref.    Posies,    Complete    Poems,    pp.   3-4. 

12  See    his    Epistle    Dedicatory. 

"  "Master  Spenser",  remarks  Francis  Beaumont  (Moulton,  Library  Cril.,  i, 
393),  "following  the  counsel  of  Tally  in  Dc  Oratore  for  reviving  of  ancient  words,  hath 
adorned  his  own  style  with  that  beauty  and  gravity  which  Tully  speaks  of".  Ben 
Jonson  says  {Discoveries,  p.  61) :  "Words  borrowed  of  antiquity  do  lend  a  kind  of  majesty 
to  style,  and  are  not  without  their  delight  sometimes;  for  they  have  the  authority  of 


form:   style;  diction;  verse  163 

not  be  stuffed  in  everywhere,  "nor  the  common  dialect  and  manner  of 
speaking  so  corrupted  thereby  that,  as  in  old  buildings,  it  seem  disorderly 
and  ruinous."  Rather,  as  a  delightful  "natural  rudeness"  may  be 
inserted  in  pictures  in  order  that  "more  excellency  may  accrue  to  the 
principal"  or  as  a  discord  in  music  makes  "a  comely  concordance," 
"even  so  do  those  rough  and  harsh  terms  enlumine,  and  make  more 
clearly  to  appear,  the  brightness  of  brave  and  glorious  words. "  Further- 
more, there  is  "one  special  praise  of  many"  due  this  poet  in-  that 
"he  hath  labored  to  restore,  as  to  their  rightful  heritage,  such  good  and 
natural  English  words  as  have  been  long  time  out  of  use  and  almost 
clean  disherited."  This  disinheritance,  E.  K.  thinks,  "is  the  only  cause 
that  our  mother  tongue,  which  truly  of  itself  is  both  full  enough  for 
prose  and  stately  enough  for  verse,  hath  long  time  been  counted  most 
bare  and  barren  of  both";  and  deploring  the  "hodgepodge"  made  of 
English  by  unnecessary  borrowings  from  other  languages  he  would  have 
Spenser's  restorations  regarded  as  a  national  benefit. 

Spenser  himself,  whose  views  are  no  doubt  reflected  by  E.  K.,  has 
little  to  say  on  the  subject  of  poetic  diction."  In  his  poems  it  was  appar- 
ently his  aim  to  frame  a  new  style  of  diction  adapted  to  the  uncommon 
nature  of  his  subject-matter.  Doubtless  while  pursuing  this  motive  of 
decorum  and  artistic  effectiveness  he  also  sought  by  his  revival  of  old 
English  words,  as  E.  K.  suggests,  to  check  the  practice  of  extravagant 
borrowings  from  foreign  languages  and  to  encourage  the  use  of  the  native 
vocabulary  in  the  development  of  a  native  poetic  diction.  It  also  seems 
clear  that  Spenser  desired  by  a  special  diction  not  only  to  differentiate 
his  work  from  ordinary  speech  but  also  to  give  it  such  distinction  as 
would  set  it  apart  and  place  it  indubitably  above  that  of  the  dramatists 
and  the  despised  rimesters.     Although  his  contemporaries  and  followers 

years,  and  out  of  their  intermission  do  \\an  themselves  a  kind  of  gracehke  newness. 
But  the  eldest  of  the  present,  and  newest  of  the  past  language  is  the  best". 

"  In  his  Tears  of  the  Muses  he  reprobates  the  misconception  of  poetry  on  the  part 
of  the   "base  vulgar": 

Heaps   of   huge   words   uphoarded   liideously, 
With  horrid  sound  though  having  little  sense. 
They  think  to  be  chief  praise  of  poetry. 

He  remarks  in  a  letter  to  Harvey  (Smith,  i,  99),  as  regards  the  adaptation  of  Enghsh 
diction  to  Latin  prosody,  that  "rough  words  must  be  subdued  with  use".  Cp.  Ben 
Jonson,  who  says  of  new-coined  words,  "things  at  first  hard  and  rough  are  by  use 
made  tender  and  gentle"  {Discoveries,  p.  61). 


164  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

in  general  show  scant  regard  for  Ihe  archaic  feature  of  his  style — partly 
no  doubt  because  it  smacked  too  much  of  dreaded  barbarism — it  proved 
very  attractive  to  eighteenth  century  poets  who  desired  to  leave  the 
beaten  track,  and  has  been  the  chief  source  of  modern  archaizing  in 
English  poetry.  Indeed,  the  peculiarly  poetic  character  of  Spenser's 
style — so   largely   a   matter   of   words — recognized   down   through   the 

different    ages,    warrants    the    designation,    "founder   of 

modern   English   poetic   diction.  "'^ 

When  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  after  deprecating  the  superficial  and  affected 
spirit  of  love  poetry  of  his  time,  turns  to  the  "outside  of  it,  which  is 

words  or diction, "^^  he  declares  that  "it  is  even  well 

worse."  Eloquence  is  disguised  in  "painted  affectation"  with  such 
"far-fet  words,  they  may  seem  monsters,  but  must  seem  strangers  to  any 
poor  English  man. "  Then  there  are  ridiculous  attempts  at  decoration 
with  withered  "figures  and  flowers"  and  the  absurd  "coursing  of  a 
letter"  as  if  writers  "were  bound  to  follow  the  method  of  a  dictionary"; 
and  wishing  that  these  faults  "were  only  peculiar  to  versifiers,"  Sidney 
soon  finds  himself  deserving  "  to  be  pounded  for  straying  from  poetry  to 
oratory,"  though  the  two  have  close  "affinity  in  this  wordish  considera- 
tion." Writers  are  "awry"  and  not  the  language,  which  is  "indeed 
capable  of  any  excellent  exercising  of  it."  Though  it  is  a  mingled 
language,  "so  much  the  better,  taking  the  best  of  both  the  other."  It 
needs  not  grammar  and  is  happily  void  of  the  cumbersome  differences  of 
inflected  languages.  It  is  "particularly  happy  in  compositions  of  two  or 
three  words  together,"  in  this  being  "near  the  Greek,  far  beyond  the 
Latin."  These  compositions,  which  Sidney  admires  as  "one  of  the 
greatest  beauties  can  be  in  a  language,"  he  employs  copiously  in  his  own 
writing,  especially  in  his  Arcadia}"^    In  general,  for  "uttering  the  con- 

'^  Saintsbury,   Hist.   Eng.   Prosody,   p.   320. 
^'Apology,    Smith,    i,    201-204. 

'^  Bishop  Hall  {Satires,  Bk.  VI,  Satire  I)  also  admires  this  "new  elegance"  of  style, 
which  he  says  Sidney  imported  from  France: 

He  knows  the  grace  of  that  new  elegance 
Which  sweet  Philisides  fetcht  of  late  from  France, 
That  well  beseem 'd  his  high  styled  Arcady, 
Tho  others  mar  it  with  much  liberty; 
In  epithets  to  join  two  words  in  one, 
Forsooth,   for  adjectives  cannot  stand  alone; 
As  a  great  poet  could  of  Bacchus  say, 
That    he    was    semele-femori-gena. 


form:   style;  diction;  verse  165 

ceits  of  the  mind,  which  is  the  end  of  speech,"  Sidney  concludes  that 
Enghsh  equals  "any  other  tongue  in  the  world." 

Sidney's  almost  unconscious  "straying  from  poetry  to  oratory"  in 
his  discussion  of  diction,  as  well  as  the  poetical  character  of  his  style  in 
the  Arcadia,  seems  to  indicate  that  he  had  in  view  no  special  diction  for 
poetry  as  distinguished  from  that  of  prose,  at  least  imaginative  prose. 
Verse,  he  declares,  is  "no  cause  to  poetry";  likewise,  apparently  he 
thought  of  diction,  and  naturally  enough  he  failed  to  appreciate  the 
artificial  archaism  of  the  Shepherd's  Calendar.  "That  same  framing  of 
his  style  to  an  old  rustic  language,"  he  declares,  "I  dare  not  allow. "^^ 
It  had  not  the  authority  of  the  ancients,  and  perhaps  too  it  seemed  one 
of  "those  far-fet  helps"  that  "bewray  a  want  of  inward  touch." 

King  James  VI  expresses  considerable  interest  in  matters  of  diction, 
one  of  the  qualifications  of  his  "perfect  poet"  being. 

With  pithie  wordis,  for  to  expres  yow  by  it 
His  full  intention  in  his  proper  leid 
The  puritie  quhairof  weill  hes  he  tryit.^^ 

Evidently  not  agreeing  with  Gascoigne's  unqualified  recommendation  of 
words  of  one  syllable,  he  warns  poets,  because  of  the  requirements  of 
accent,  against  "oft  composing  your  whole  lines  of  monosyllables  only 
(albeit  our  language  have  so  many  as  we  cannot  well  eschew  it)." 
Whatever  you  put  in  verse,  however,  "put  in  no  words  either  metri 
causa  or  yet  for  filling  forth  the  number  of  the  feet,"  unless  they  are  as 
necessary  as  in  "speaking  the  same  purpose  in  prose."  See  to  it  that 
"your  words  appear  to  have  come  out  willingly,  and  by  nature,  and  not 
to  have  been  thrown  out  constrainedly,  by  compulsion."  Not  having 
before  him  the  success  of  Milton,  James  enjoins  poets  to  "eschew  to 

Spenser  too  is  fond  of  these  compounds,  having  two  or  three  on  almost  every  page. 
Lowell  calls  him  "an  epicure  in  language"  who  "loved  'seld-seen  costly'  words  per- 
haps too  well"  (cf.  J.  B.  Fletcher,  "Areopagus  and  Pleiade",  442).  Compounding, 
indeed,  became  a  fashion  and  was  abused,  as  Hall  implies.  Carew  says  (Smith,  ii, 
287)  of  "the  composition  of  words"  that  "therein  our  language  hath  a  peculiar  grace, 
a  like  signilicancy,  and  more  short  than  the  Greeks".  Middleton  (Collier,  Poetical 
Decameron,  i,  34)  esteems  "the  learned  Greek,  Blest  in  the  lowly  marriage  of  sweet 
words".  For  a  list  of  compounds  used  by  Sidney  in  his  Apology  see  A.  S.  Cook's 
edition,  p.  130.  Shakespeare  alludes  to  this  vogue  in  Sonnet  76,  rejecting  "new- 
found  methods"   and   "compounds   strange". 

"  Apology,  Smith,  i,  196.     Cp.  the  speech  of  shepherds  in  the  Arcadia,  written  later. 

"  Smith,  i,  211.     Cf.  also  215,  220. 


166  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

insert"  in  their  verses  "a  long  rabble  of  men's  names,  or  names  of  towns 
or  such  other  names. "  Other  words  should  be  mingled  among  them,  for 
placed  together  they  will  not  "flow  well." 

"As  for  epithets,"  James  explains,  "it  is  to  describe  briefly,  en 
passant,  the  natural  of  everything  ye  speak  of,  by  adding  the  proper 
adjective  unto  it,  whereof  there  are  two  fashions."  One  is  "by  making 
a  corrupted  word,"  composed  of  two  simple  words,  "as  Apollo  guide- 
sun."  The  other  is  "by  circumlocution,  as  Apollo,  ruler  of  the  sun." 
This  last  James  esteems  best,  because  it  "makes  no  corrupted  words,  as 
the  other  does."  The  poet  should,  in  general,  try  for  freshness  and 
variety  in  his  use  of  poetical  terms;  for  instance,  he  may  vary  with  such 
terms  as  Titan,  Phoebus,  Apollo — as  the  critic  himself  does  in  his  Phoenix. 

Due  attention  must  be  given  to  decorum:  "Take  heed  to  frame  your 

words according  to  the  matter:  as  in  fly  ting  and 

invectives  your  words  to  be  cuttit  short,  and  hurland  over  heuch. "  In 
love  and  tragedies  "your  words  must  be  drawn  long."  In  general 
choose  words  "according  to  the  purpose":  in  "high  and  learned  pur- 
pose," "use  high,  pithy,  and  learned  words";  if  the  purpose  be  of  love, 
"use  common  language,  with  some  passionate  words";  if  of  tragical 
matters,  "use  lamentable  words,  with  some  high";  if  of  "landward 
affairs,"  "use  corrupted  and  uplandish  words";  "finally,  whatsomever 
be  your  subject,"  "use  vocabula  artis,  whereby  ye  may  the  more  vively 
represent  that  person  whose  part  ye  paint  out. ' ' 

Webbe,  in  translating  the  canons  of  Horace,  which  he  appends  to  his 
treatise,  places  before  his  readers  the  statements  that  "the  ornament  of 
a  work  consisteth  in  words,  and  in  the  manner  of  the  words";  that  "in 
them  all  good  judgment  must  be  used  and  ready  wit";  and  that  "the 
chiefest  grace  is  in  the  most  frequented  words,"  for,  as  with  coins,  "the 
most  used  and  tried  are  best  esteemed."^"  Webbe's  own  remarks  on 
diction,  in  which  he  is  also  indebted  to  Horace,  have  to  do  chiefly  with 
decorum.  He  commends  Phaer's  translation  of  Virgil  especially  for  the 
translator's  success  in  observing  the  decorum  of  diction  to  be  found  in  the 
original;  for  "Virgil  always  fitteth  his  matter  in  hand  with  words  agree- 
able unto  the  same  affection  which  he  expresseth. "  For  instance,  "in 
his  dreadful  battles  and  dreary  bickerments  of  wars,  how  big  and  boister- 
ous his  words  sound,  "^^  and  like  decorum  may  be  observed  throughout 

^°  Discourse,     Smith,    i,    291. 

"  lb.,  256.  Cp.  Thomas  Newton  (1587)  ("To  the  Reader  in  behalf  of  this  Book", 
Mirror  for  Magistrates,  ed.  Haslewood,  i,  13): 


form:  style;  diction;  verse  167 

his  work.  Comparing  the  EngHsh  translation  with  the  original,  Webbe 
is  pleased  to  show  how  Phaer  has  succeeded  in  preserving  "the  brave 
warlike  phrase  and  big  sounding  kind  of  thundering  speech,  in  the  hot 
skirmish  of  battles,"  and  in  general  to  mark  the  "gallant  grace"  of 
English  speech,  which  lacks  "neither  variety  nor  currentness  of  phrase 
for  any  matter."-^ 

Richard  Stanyhurst,  like  Webbe,  admires  Virgil  for  "words  so  fitly 
coucht,"  and  is  likewise  proud  of  the  resources  of  the  English  tongue. ^^ 
Desiring  by  the  originality  of  his  translation  further  "to  advance  the 
riches  of  our  speech,"  he  deliberately  avoids — not  always  with  happy 
result — words  that  had  been  used  by  his  predecessor  Phaer.  "I  stand 
so  nicely  on  my  pantoffles,"  he  declares,  that  "I  would  not  run  on  the 
score  with  M.  Phaer  or  any  other,  by  borrowing  his  terms  in  so  copious 
and  fluent  a  language  as  our  English  tongue  is. "     Though  few  can  equal 

Phaer  for  "pickt  and  lofty  words,"  yet  he  has  "doubled 

my  pains,  by  reason  that,  in  conferring  his  translation  with  mine,  I  was 
forced  to  weed  out  from  my  verses  such  choice  words  as  were  forestalled 
by  him,  unless  they  were  so  feeling  as  others  could  not  countervail  their 
signification.  "^ 

Their  words  are  thundered  with  such  majesty, 
As   fitteth   right   each   matter  in   degree. 

Jasper  Heywood  in  the  preface  to  his  translation  of  Troyennes  (1559,  cf.  Symmes, 
Crit.  Dram.,  p.  60),  also  mentions  "the  royalty  of  speech  meet  for  tragedy".  Marlowe 
tries    to    hit    it: 

From  jigging  veins  of  rhyming  mother  wits 
And  such  conceits  as  clownage  keeps  in  pay, 
We'll  lead  you  to  the  stately  tents  of  war 
Where  you  shall  hear  the  Scythian  Tamburlaine 
Threatening  the  world  with  high  astounding  terms. 

But  Ben  Jonson  thinks  he  overshoots.  Though  the  true  artificer's  language,  he  says, 
"differ  from  the  vulgar  somewhat,  it  shall  not  fly  from  aU  humanity,  with  the  Tamer- 
lanes  and  Tamer-chams  of  the  late  age"  (Discoveries,  p.  27). 

22 /ft.,  260,  262. 

23  Ded.   Aeneid,   Smith,   i,    137. 

2^  Stanyharst's  efforts  were  not  appreciated  by  some  of  his  contemporaries.  Nash 
(Smith,  i,  315)  holds  up  to  ridicule  his  "carteriy  variety",  "thrasonical  huffe  snuffe", 
terrible  to  all  mild  ears.  Puttenham's  "stomach  can  hardly  digest"  many  of  his  ill- 
sounding  polysyllables  and  his  "copulation  of  monosyllables"  (Smith,  ii,  122).  Cp. 
also  HaU  (Bk.  I,  Satire  VI): 


168  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

It  seems  a  part  of  Puttenham's  idea  of  decorum  that  poetry  should 
have  a  diction  differing  from  that  of  prose,  one  of  the  advantages^  of 
poetry  over  prose  in  his  opinion  being  that  it  is  allowed  greater  "license 
in  choice  of  words  and  phrases."-^  Then,  within  the  sphere  of  metrical 
composition,  he  insists,  like  James  VI,  that  careful  attention  should  be 
given  to  the  adaptation  of  diction  to  the  subject-matter.  Among  others 
Stanyhurst  in  this  respect  has  offended.  For  instance,  he  has  made 
Prince  Aeneas  "trudge  out  of  Troy,"^^  like  a  beggar.  In  general,  though 
some  words  "become  the  high  style  that  do  not  become  the  other  two," 
it  "is  disgraced  and  made  foolish  and  ridiculous  by  all  words  affected, 
counterfeit,  and  puffed  up,  as  it  were  a  windball  carrying  more  counte- 
nance than  matter. "  Similarly  objectionable  in  this  style  are  "all  dark 
and  unaccustomed  words,  or  rustical  and  homely."  Decorum  of  diction 
should  also  be  observed  in  the  "mean"  and  "low"  styles.  Delicate 
poets  in  their  courtly  ditties  should  avoid  long  polysyllables,  for  their 
usage  smacks  of  the  "  school  of  common  players.  "^^  The  use  of  epithets, 
presumably  compound  epithets  such  as  graced  the  style  of  Sidney  and 
Spenser,  Puttenham  finds  much  abused:  "Some  of  our  vulgar  writers 
take  great  pleasure  in  giving  epithets,  and  do  it  to  almost  every  word 
which  may  receive  them."  This  "should  not  be  so,  yea  though  they 
were  never  so  proper  and  apt,  for  sometimes  words  suffered  to  go  single 
do  give  greater  sense  and  grace  than  words  qualified  by  attributions."^^ 

As  to  borrowings  from  foreign  languages  Puttenham  is  conservative. 
Gower's  diction  is  objectionable  because  of  the  French  element.  Very 
reprehensible  also  is  the  affectation  of  foreign  terms  as  illustrated  by  such 
a  writer  as  John  Southern,  who  in  his  sonnets  impudently  introduces 
such  French  words  as  "have  no  manner  of  conformity  with  our  language 
either  by  custom  or  derivation  which  may  make  them  tolerable."'^ 
Puttenham,  however,  must  admit  that,  owing  largely  to  the  "peevish 

If  Jove  speak  English  in  a  thundring  cloud, 
Thwick  thwack,  and  riffe  raffe,  roars  he  aloud. 
Fie  on  the  forged  mint  that  did  create 
New  coin  of  words  never  articulate. 

^  Art  of  English  Poesy,   Smith,  ii,  9. 

*•  lb.,  178.     Cp.  Ben  Jonson  {Discoveries,  p.  60),  words  are  "to  be  chose  according 
to  the  persons  we  make  speak,  or  the  things  we  speak  of". 
"  lb.,     132,     159. 
=8  lb.,     169. 
2«  lb.,  64,  171. 


form:   style;  diction;  verse  169 

affectation"  of  early  "clerks  and  scholars,"^"  the  monosyllabic  Saxon 
has  been  changed  by  the  introduction  of  many  polysyllables,  which, 
though  long  "despised  for  inkhorn  terms,"  are  now  "reputed  the  best 
and  most  delicate  of  any  other. "  But  "  some  small  admonition  "  is  "  not 
impertinent"  for  the  present  day;  for  you  "shall  see  in  some  many 
inkhorn  terms  so  ill  affected"  introduced  by  men  of  learning,  "many 
strange  terms  of  other  languages"  brought  in  by  travelers  and  others, 
"and  many  dark  words  and  not  usual  nor  well-sounding,  though  they  be 
daily  spoken  in  Court.  Wherefore  great  heed  must  be  taken  by  our 
maker  in  this  point  that  his  choice  be  good."^^ 

Since  the  conditions  demand  that  the  matter  of  poetic  diction  "be 
heedly  looked  into,"  Puttenham  gives  full  and  specific  directions,^^ 
which  also  form  an  interesting  commentary  on  the  language  of  his  day 
and  perhaps  imply  a  criticism  of  Spenser's  usage  in  the  Shepherd's 
Calendar.  The  poet  should  see  to  it,  he  declares,  that  his  diction  "be 
natural,  pure,  and  the  most  usual  of  all  his  country;  and  for  the  same 
purpose  rather  that  which  is  spoken  in  the  king's  Court,  or  in  the  good 
towns  and  cities  within  the  land,  than  in  the  marches  and  frontiers,  or 
in  port  towns,  where  strangers  haunt  for  traffic  sake,  or  yet  in  universities 
where  scholars  use  much  peevish  affectation  of  words  out  of  the  primitive 
languages,  or  finally,  in  any  uplandish  village  or  corner  of  a  realm,  where 
is  no  resort  but  of  poor  rustical  or  uncivil  people:  neither  shall  he  follow 
the  speech  of  a  craftsman  or  carter,  or  other  of  the  inferior  sort,  though 
he  be  inhabitant  or  bred  in  the  best  town  and  city  in  this  realm,  for  such 
persons  do  abuse  good  speeches  by  strange  accents  or  ill  shapen  sounds 
and  false  orthography.  But  he  shall  follow  generally  the  better  brought 
up  sort,  such  as  the  Greeks  call  charientes,  men  civil  and  graciously 
behaviored  and  bred.  Our  maker,  therefore,  at  these  days  shall  not 
follow  Piers  Plowman  nor  Gower  nor  Lydgate  nor  yet  Chaucer ,^^  for  their 

3°  lb.,  121.  These  pedants,  says  Puttenham,  "not  content  with  the  usual  Norman 
or  Saxon  word,  would  convert  the  very  Latin  and  Greek  word  into  vulgar  French  . 
.  .  .  .  not  natural  Normans  not  yet  French,  but  altered  Latins,  and  without 
any  imitation  at  all". 

'*  lb.,  151.  In  the  imsettled  state  of  the  language  the  critic  acknowledges  that 
he  himself  may  be  at  fault  in  "using  many  strange  and  unaccustomed  words". 

32/6.,   149,   150. 

'^  Cp.  Ben  Jonson,  who  in  recommending  authors  for  youthful  readers  admonishes : 
"Beware  of  letting  them  taste  Gower  or  Chaucer  at  first,  lest,  faUing  too  much  in  love 
with  antiquity,  and  not  apprehending  the  weight,  they  grow  rough  and  barren  in  lan- 
guage only Spenser,  in  affecting  the  ancients,  writ  no  language;  yet  I 


170  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

language  is  now  out  of  use  with  us;  neither  shall  he  take  the  terms  of 
Northern-men,  such  as  they  use  in  daily  talk,  whether  they  be  noblemen 
or  gentlemen  or  of  their  best  clerks,  all  is  a  matter;  nor  in  effect  any 
speech  used  beyond  the  river  of  Trent,  though  no  man  can  deny  but  that 
theirs  is  the  purer  English  Saxon  at  this  day,  yet  it  is  not  so  courtly  nor 
so  current  as  our  Southern  English  is;  no  more  is  the  far  Western  man's 
speech.  Ye  shall  therefore  take  the  usual  speech^''  of  the  Court,  and  that 
of  London  and  the  shires  lying  about  London  within  Ix  miles,  and  not 
much  above." 

Nash,  who  grants  that  poetry  may  have  greater  license  than  prose, 
takes  in  general  a  conservatively  progressive  attitude  toward  matters  of 
diction.  In  confuting  those  who  might  allege  "Chaucer's  authority" 
for  their  "balductums,"  he  declares  that  if  Chaucer  had  "lived  to  this 
age"  he  would  doubtless  have  discarded  "half  of  the  harsher  sort  of 
them. "  "  In  the  spring  of  Chaucer's  flourishing,  "^^  art,  like  young  grass, 
"was  glad  to  peep  up  through  any  slime  of  corruption,  to  be  beholding  to 
she  cared  not  whom  for  apparel,  travailing  in  those  cold  countries." 
There  is  no  reason,  however,  changing  the  figure,  "that  she,  a  banished 
Queen  into  this  barren  soil,  having  monarchized  it  so  long  amongst  the 

Greeks  and  Romans,  should still  be  constrained,  when 

she  has  recovered  her  state,  to  wear  the  robes  of  adversity  and  jet  it  in 
her  old  rags,  when  she  is  wedded  to  new  prosperity.  "^®  Consonant  with 
this  is  Nash's  feeling  toward  monosyllables.     Complaining  of  the  way  in 

would  have  him  read  for  his  matter,  but  as  Virgil  read  Ennius".  Speaking  further 
of  archaisms  Jonson  says,  "Lucretious  is  scabrous  and  rough  in  these;  he  seeks  them: 
as  some  do  Chaucerisms  with  us,  which  were  better  expunged  and  banished"  {Discover- 
ies, pp.  57,  61).  Francis  Beaumont  (Moulton,  Library  Crit.,  i,  393)  says  of  Spenser 
"His  much  frequenting  Chaucer's  ancient  speeches  causeth  many  to  allow  far  better 
of  him  than  otherwise  they  would". 

'^  Cp.  Ben  Jonson  {Discoveries,  p.  61):  "Custom  is  the  most  certain  mistress  of 

language Yet  when  I  name  custom,   I  understand  not  the  vulgar 

custom I  call  custom  of  speech the  consent  of  the 

learned". 

'^  Drayton  {Epistle  to  Henry  Reynolds,  Smith,  i,  Iviii)  expresses  a  similar  view: 

As    much    as    then 
The  EngUsh  language  could  express  to  men 
He  made  it  do. 

'^  Strange  News,  Smith,  ii,  242.  Cp.  Mulcaster  (Smith,  i,  Ivii):  "If  we  must  cleave 
to  the  eldest  and  not  to  the  best,  we  should  be  eating  acorns  and  wearing  Adam's 
pelts". 


form:   style;  diction;  verse  171 

which  English  swarms  with  "the  single  money  of  monosyllables" — books 
written  in  them  seeming  to  him  like  shopkeepers'  books  that  contain 
nothing  but  small  coins — he  would  make  "a  royaler  show"  by  exchanging 
the  "small  English four  into  one accord- 
ing to  the  Greek,  French,  Spanish,  and  Italian.  "^^  However,  he  severely 
reprehends  the  writer  who,  apparently  abhorring  "the  English  he  was 
born  to,"  "plucks  with  a  solemn  periphrases  his  ut  vales  from  the  ink- 
horn,"  a  proceeding  that  Nash  imputes  "not  so  much  to  the  perfection 
of  arts  as  to  the  servile  imitation  of  vainglorious  tragedians;  who  contend 
not  so  seriously  to  excel  in  action  as  to  embowel  the  clouds  in  a  speech  of 
comparison.  "^^  But  the  English  poets  he  proudly  asserts,  writing  three 
years  later,  in  1592,  have  cleansed  the  language  from  barbarism  and  made 
the  common  people  of  London  "aspire  to  a  richer  purity  of  speech"  than 
is  used  by  the  people  of  any  other  nation.^^ 

Chapman,  though  in  his  translation  of  Homer  avoiding  "  discountryed 
affection"  and  "abhorred  affectation,"  considers  discourse  ungracious 

that  "falls  naked and  hath  nothing  but  what  mixeth 

itself  with  ordinary  table  talk."  As  for  his  "variety  of  new  words," 
having  "none  inkpot,"  he  thinks  that  he  might  well  be  thanked  for 
enriching  the  language.  Defending  his  diction  against  the  censure  of 
critics,    he    questions    why    "an    elegancy    authentically    derived,  and 

of  the  upper  house"  may  not  "be  entertained  as  well  in 

their  lower  consultation  with  authority  of  art  as  their  own  forgeries 

lickt  up  by  nature.     All  tongues  have  enriched  themselves 

with  good  neighborly  borrowing and  why  may  not  ours?  " 

''  Cambridge  History,  iii,  508.  Richard  Carew,  though  patriotically  contending 
for  "all  in  EngUsh",  takes  a  sinular  view.  The  powers  of  the  language,  he  believes, 
are  much  enhanced  by  judicious  borrowing,  —  "gather  the  honey  and  leave  the  dregs". 
"The  long  words  that  we  borrow,  being  intermingled  with  the  short  of  our  own  store, 
make  up  a  perfect  harmony,  by  culling  from  out  which  mixture  with  judgment  you 
may  frame  your  speech  according  to  the  matter  j'ou  must  work  on,  majestical,  pleasant, 
delicate,  or  manly,  more  or  less,  in  what  sort  you  please"  (Excellency  English  Tongue, 
Smith,  ii,  293).  Camden  (Remains  concerning  Britain,  p.  32)  remarks  that  English 
has  been  "beautified  and  enriched  out  of  other  good  tongues,  partly  by  enfranchising 
and  endenizing  strange  words,  partly  by  refining  and  mollifying  old  words,  partly  by 
implanting  new  words  with  artificial  composition. " 

^  Pref.  Menaphon,  Smith,  i,  308,  Thomas  Heywood  in  his  Apology  for  Actors  de- 
clares that  the  English  drama  has  refined  the  harsh  and  broken  language  until  it  is 
now  grown  most  perfect  (cf.  Symmes,  Crit.  Dram.,  p.  185;  also  Carpenter,  Metaphor 
and  Simile,    p.    198). 

s«  Works,  McKerrow,  i,   193. 


172  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

For  wits  to  cry  "  to  have  the  ceaseless  flowing  river  of  our  tongue  turned 
into  their  frogpool,  is  a  song  far  from  their  arrogation  of  sweetness,  and  a 
sin  would  soon  bring  the  plague  of  barbarism,"  which  already  "comes 
with  mealy-mouthed  toleration  too  savagely  upon  us."'*" 

Daniel,  in  the  spirit  of  Sidney,  expresses  a  strong  reaction  against  the 
quest  of  superficial  verbal  elegance.  Words,  he  deems,  "can  be  but 
words";  "it  is  matter  that  satisfies  the  judicial,  appear  it  in  what  habit 
it  will.  "'*^  We  admire  the  ancients  for  their  inventions  rather  than  for 
their  "smooth-gliding  words."  "The  most  judicial  and  worthy  spirits 
of  this  land  are  not  so  delicate  or  will  owe  so  much  to  their  ear,  as  to  rest 
upon  the  outside  of  words,  and  be  entertained  with  sound. "^^  "It  is  not 
the  contexture  of  words,  but  the  effects  of  action,  that  gives  glory  to  the 
times."  "Eloquence  and  gay  words  are  not  of  the  substance  of  wit;  it 
is  but  the  garnish  of  a  nice  time,  the  ornaments  that  do  but  deck  the  house 
of  a  state,  and  imitatur  publicos  mores. ^'"^^  The  verbal  affectations  of 
antiquity  and  novelty  are  to  Daniel  deformities  next  to  that  of  the 
reformed  versifying,  and  indeed  to  these  he  devotes  the  final  paragraph^ 
of  his  Defense  of  Rime.  We  "bewray  ourselves,"  he  declares,  "to  be 
both  unkind  and  unnatural  to  our  own  native  language,  in  disguising  or 
forging  strange  or  unusual  words. "  He  protests,  as  did  Wordsworth  two 
hundred  years  later,  that  some  writers  seem  unaccountably  possessed  to 

^^  Pref.  Iliad,  Smith,  ii,  305.  Chapman,  however,  has  his  patriotic  prejudice  for 
the  Enghsh  monosyllable  (Collier,  Poetical  Decameron,  i,  36): 

Our   monosyllables    so   kindly    fall 
And  meet  opposed  in  rime,  as  they  did  kiss. 
French   and   ItaHan,   most   immetrical, 
Their  many  syllables  in  harsh  colhsion 
Fall  as  they  brake  their  necks. 

He  shows  fondness  for  compound  epithets  in  his  translation  of  Homer.  For  the 
enthusiasms  and  excesses  of  his  dramatic  diction  see  Carpenter,  Metaphor  and  Simile, 
pp.    97,    100. 

*^  Defense  of  Rime,  Smith,  ii,  364.  Cp.  Ben  Jonson:  "Words  above  action;  matter 
above  words"  (Prol.  Cynthia^s  Revels);  "let  your  matter  run  before  your  words" 
{Poetaster,  v,  i);  "the  sense  is  as  the  life  and  soul  of  language,  without  which  all  words 
are   dead"    {Discoveries,   p.   60). 

"76.,  381.  Yet  "well  languaged  Daniel"  was  "choice  in  word"  (Lodge,  IF?/ '5 
Misery,  Works,  iv,  57). 

"/&.,     371,     372. 

"  lb.,  384.  Bacon  in  discussing  the  diseases  of  learning  reprobates  the  "extreme 
affecting  of  two  extremities:  the  one  antiquity,  the  other  novelty"  {Adv.  Learning, 
Bk.  I,  V,   1). 


form:  style;  diction;   verse  173 

make  English  verse  "seem  another  kind  of  speech  out  of  the  course  of  our 
usual  practice,  displacing  our  words,**''  or  inventing  new,  only  upon  a 
singularity,  when  our  own  accustomed  phrase,  set  in  due  place,  would 
express  us  more  familiarly  and  to  better  delight  than  all  this  idle  affecta- 
tion of  antiquity  or  novelty  can  ever  do.""*^  And  Daniel  "cannot  but 
wonder  at  the  strange  presumption  of  some  men,  that  dare  so  audaciously 
adventure  to  introduce  any  whatsoever  foreign  words,  be  they  never  so 
strange,  and  of  themselves,  as  it  were,  without  a  parliament,  without  any 
consent  or  allowance,  establish  them  as  free-denizens^^  in  our  language. " 

*^  Webbe  finds  it  "tolerable  in  a  verse  to  set  words  so  extraordinarily  as  other 
speech  will  not  admit",  though  "it  is  a  wonder  to  see  the  folly  of  many"  who  use 
"too  much  of  this  overthwart  placing,  or  displacing  of  words"  both  in  their  poetry 
and  prose  (Smith,  i,  274).  Gascoigne  also  advises  "to  use  your  verse  after  the  English 
phrase"  and  smiles  at  the  simplicity  of  devisers  who  "might  as  well  have  said  it  in  plain 
English  phrase  and better  pleased  all  ears"  (Smith,  i,  53). 

«  Cp.  Daniel's  Delia,  No.  LV: 

Let  others  sing  of  Knights  and  Paladins 
In   aged   accents  and  untimely  words. 

^'  Peele  {Ad  Maecenatem  Prologiis),  who  commends  Campion  for  richly  clothing 
"conceit  with  well-made    words",  also  praises  Harington  as 

Well-lettered    and    discreet 
That    hath    so   purely   naturalized 
Strange  words  and  made  them  all  free-denizens. 

Cp.   Ben  Jonson   {Poetaster,  V,  i): 

You  must  not  hunt  for  wild  outlandish  terms. 
To  stuff  out  a  pecuHar  dialect; 
But  let  your  matter  run  before  your  words. 
And  if  at  any  time  you  chance  to  meet 
Some  Gallo-Belgic  phrase,  you  shall  not  straight 
Rack  your  poor  verse  to  give  it  entertainment, 
But  let  it  pass;  and  do  not  think  yourself 
Much  damnified,  if  you  do  leave  it  out, 
When  nor  your  understanding  nor  the  sense 
Could  well  receive  it.     This  fair  abstinence, 
In  time,  will  render  you  more  sound  and  clear: 
And  this  have  I  prescribed  to  you 

This  advice  is  deUvered  by  Virgil  to  the  abject  Crispinus  (Marston),  who  had  just 
disgorged  a  hideous  vocabulary  of  "spurious  snotteries".  Shakespeare's  jocosity  in 
his  satire  of  the  affectations  and  pedantries  of  diction  is  much  more  amiable,  though 
he  also  makes  these  faults  highly  ridiculous  in  such  characters  as  Armado  and  Holo- 
fernes,  both  of  whom  "have  lived  long  in  the  alms-basket  of  words"  {Love's  Labor's 
Lost,  V,  i,  39).    The  interest  of  the  age,  as  well  as  that  of  Shakespeare  himself,  in  mat- 


174  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

Daniel's  philosophical  breadth  of  mind,  however, — like  that  of  Burke  at 
the  end  of  his  contention  against  a  greater  change — asserts  itself  here  as 
elsewhere  and  he  concludes:  "But  this  is  but  a  character  of  that  perpetual 
revolution  which  we  see  to  be  in  all  things  that  never  remain  the  same: 
and  we  must  herein  be  content  to  submit  ourselves  to  the  law  of  time, 
which  in  few  years  will  make  all  that  for  which  we  now  contend  Nothing. " 

Although  the  critics  of  this  period  express  many  divergent  views  on 
matters  of  words,  they  are  generally  agreed  that  in  one  way  or  another 
the  diction  of  English  poetry  ought  to  be  enriched  and  refined  to  the 
highest  possible  degree  of  excellence  and  beauty.  In  this  desire  center 
the  love  of  freshness,  novelty,  and  gallant  bravery  of  speech;  the  delight 
in  richness,  elegance,  splendor;  the  dread  of  barbarism  and  the  aversion 
to  lowness  or  plainness;  the  regard  for  decorum  and  the  craving  for  polish 
and  distinction.  This  quest  of  verbal  excellence  is  not  limited  to  poetry, 
and  indeed  except  for  an  occasional  acknowledgment  of  poetic  license  and 
occasional  departures  in  diction  like  that  of  Spenser,  which  are  not 
generally  acceptable,  there  is  no  very  distinct  recognition  of  a  diction  for 
poetry  different  from  that  of  other  imaginative  literature.^^  Differen- 
tiation between  high  style  and  low  style,  however,  in  both  prose  and 
poetry  as  well  as  in  social  discourse  is  a  tenet  of  critical  theory,  the  law  of 
decorum,  though  this  law  is  subordinated  to  the  desire  for  a  larger  and 
nobler  power  of  expression. 

The  necessity  of  enlarging  the  capabilities  of  the  poetic  vocabulary 
involved  either  borrowing  from  foreign  languages  or  the  development  of 
native  resources  by  such  means  as  the  use  of  archaisms  and  the  com- 
pounding of  words.  Either  of  these  alternatives  carried  objections.  It 
was  galling  to  the  pride  and  patriotism  of  Englishmen  to  borrow  from 
other  nations  the  elegance  they  emulated.  On  the  other  hand,  the  dread 
of  old-fashioned  crudeness  and  plainness  and  the  ambition  to  avoid  the 
reproach  of  barbarism  hindered  the  aspirations  of  those  who  would 
build  up  a  poetic  diction  from  native  resources.  Largely  because  of  this 
dread,  even  Spenser's  attempt  to  give  new  grace  and  charm  to  the  vocab- 
ulary of  poetry  by  the  restoration  of  old  English  words  was  apparently 

ters  of  diction  is  frequently  reflected  in  the  plays.  It  is  noteworthy,  too,  that  the 
great  master  of  words,  through  his  characters  and  in  his  sonnets,  laments  the  inade- 
quacy of  language  to  express  man's  mighty  world  of  sense,  thought,  and  emotion. 

^  The  general  norm  of  diction  preserved  in  poetry  was  doubtless  due  in  part  to  the 
dominance  of  the  poetic  drama  where,  as  Ben  Jonson  says,  "words  are  the  peoples" 
—  though  "there  is  a  choice  of  them  to  be  made"  {Discoveries,  p.  60).  Cp.  Words- 
worth,   Pref.    Lyrical    Ballads. 


form:  style;  diction;  verse  175 

misunderstood,  and  in  general  not  appreciated.^^  The  compounding  of 
words,  however,  having  the  authority  of  the  Greeks  as  well  as  the 
French,  was  less  frowned  upon  and  became  more  the  fashion,  although 
the  abuse  of  the  practice  was  reprehended  by  the  later  critics.  Excesses 
in  general,  it  was  the  business  of  critics  to  condemn,  and  though  they 
usually  took  a  tentative,  open-minded  attitude  toward  the  numerous 
endeavors  to  improve  the  diction  of  English  poetry,  they  were  alert  to 
protect  the  language  from  manglement  by  extravagances  in  borrowing  or 
otherwise.  They  were  eager,  too,  as  poetry  advanced,  to  recognize  and 
encourage  all  progress  toward  perfection;  admiring  artfulness  of  phrasing, 
aptness,  sweetness,  and  fluency;  and,  whatever  the  origin,  glorying  in  the 
increasing  wealth  and  beauty  of  a  language  for  poetry  that  they  felt  to 
be  distinctively  superior  and  distinctively  English. 

III.  Verse 

To  the  various  problems  of  versification  Elizabethan  critics  devote 
more  attention  than  to  any  other  phase  of  the  art  of  poetry.  Although 
this  verse  criticism  centers  largely  about  the  question  of  adopting  class- 
ical metres,  the  discussions  also  include  various  other  topics,  such  as  the 
relative  merits  of  verse  and  prose,  stanza,  rime  sequence  and  rime  sylla- 
bles, alliteration,  accent,  caesura,  orthography,  harmony,  decorum,  etc. 
Naturally,  there  is  much  diversity  of  opinion;  the  discussions  in  general, 
however,  are  tentative  and  experimental,  even  the  controversies  being 
prompted  by  the  earnest  desire  to  improve  and  advance  English  poetic 
art. 

Ascham,  the  first  of  a  line  of  critics  to  inveigh  against  rime  and  to 
advocate  the  use  of  quantity  in  English  poetry,  shows  the  origin  of  the 
"hexameter  fury"  to  have  been  in  pleasant  talks  with  M.  Cheke  and  M. 
Watson  in  the  "sweet  time  spent  at  Cambridge."^  All  three  were  eager 
that  Enghshmen  might  be  shamed  by  the  barbaric  origin  among  the 

*^  This  means  of  enriching  poetic  diction  therefore  must  be  largely  deferred  to  an 
age  less  distrustful  of  barbarism  and  more  appreciative  oi  Chaucer  and  the  old  ballads, 
though  the  lyrics  of  the  Elizabethan  drama  happily  did  not  escape  the  influence  of 
the  native  lyrics  of  the  middle  ages. 

^Schoolmaster  (1570),  Smith,  i,  29.  Cf.  also  pp.  30-35.  Ascham's  preservation 
in  his  Schoolmaster  of  Watson 's  translation  of  the  first  two  Unes  of  the  Odyssey  affords 
a  specimen  of  the  earliest  use  of  quantitative  verse  in  English. 

All  travelers  do  gladly  report  great  praise  of  Ulysses, 

For  that  he  knew  many  men's  manners  and  saw  many  cities. 


176  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

Goths  and  Huns  of  "rude  beggarly  riming,"  which  was  finally  "re- 
ceived into  England  by  men  of  excellent  wit"  but  "small  learning  and 
less  judgment  in  that  behalf."    Now,  however,  continues,  Ascham, 

"when  men  know  the  diflference,  and  have  the  examples 

surely  to  follow  rather  the  Goths  in  riming  than  the  Greeks  in  true 
versifying  were  even  to  eat  acorns  with  swine,  when  we  may  freely  eat 
wheat  bread  among  men. "  Chaucer,  Surrey,  Wyatt,  Phaer,  and  others, 
he  thinks,  "have  gone  as  far  to  their  great  praise  as  the  copy  they  fol- 
lowed could  carry  them,"  but  if  such  good  wit  and  diligence,  not  content 
"with  that  barbarous  and  rude  riming,"  could  have  followed  the  best 
examples,  these  writers  might  have  been  "counted  among  men  of  learning 
and  skill  more  like  unto  the  Grecians  than  unto  the  Gothians  in  handling 
of    their    verse. " 

If  any  are  angry  with  Ascham  for  misliking  rime  they  may  for  com- 
pany be  angry  with  Quintilian,  who  had  less  cause  for  his  mislike  than 
men  of  this  day.  Quintilian  also  affords  a  helpful  point  on  versifying 
in  his  teaching  that  the  dactyl  stumbles  rather  than  stands  upon  mono- 
syllables. And  applying  this  Ascham  observes  that  "our  English  tongue, 
having  in  use  chiefly  words  of  one  syllable  which  commonly  be  long," 
is  not  adapted  to  the  dactyl,  and  therefore  "doth  not  well  receive 
carmen  heroicum"  for  which  the  dactyl  is  the  aptestfoot.  But  "though 
carmen  exameirum  doth  rather  trot  and  hobble  than  run  smoothly" 
in  the  English  tongue,  English  "will  receive  carmen  iam^hicum  as  natur- 
ally as  either  Greek  or  Latin."  The  only  difficulty  is  that  on  account 
of  ignorance  and  idleness  "men  will  not  labor  to  come  to  any  perfectness 
at  all. "  Not  having  "  reverend  regard  to  learning,  skill,  and  judgment, " 
they  will  not  use  "diligence  in  searching  out  not  only  just  measure  in  every 
metre,  as  every  ignorant  person  may  easily  do,  but  also  true  quantity 
in  every  foot  and  syllable,  as  only  the  learned  shall  be  able  to  do." 
This  last  consideration  is  a  strong  motive  with  Ascham  as  with  later 
advocates  of  classical  metres.  The  adoption  of  quantitative  verse 
would  deter  "rash  ignorant  heads,"  who,  for  lack  of  learning  or  on 
account  of  the  labor  involved,  would  not  "be  so  busy  as  everywhere 
they  be,"  stuffing  the  shops  "full  of  lewd  and  rude  rimes."  Those 
who  abet  such  performances  by  defending  rime,  "do  so  either  for  lack 
of  knowledge  what  is  best,  or  else  of  very  envy  that  any  should  perform 
that  in  learning"  which  they  cannot  achieve. 

The  noble  Earl  of  Surrey,  "first  of  all  Englishmen  in  translating  the 
fourth  book  of  Virgil,"  has  "by  good  judgment",  declares  Ascham, 


form:   style;  diction;  verse  177 

"avoided  the  fault  of  riming,"  yet  he  has  not  "fully  hit  perfect  and  true 
versifying."  Though  he  has  observed  "just  number  and  even  feet," 
the  feet  are  "not  distinct  by  true  quantity  of  syllables"  and  are  therefore 
unfit — "feet  in  our  English  versifying  without  quantity  and  joints  be 
sure  signs  that  the  verse  is  either  born  deformed,  unnatural,  and  lame, 
and  so  very  unseemly  to  look  upon,"  except  to  goggle-eyed  men. 

This  fault  of  riming,  Ascham  is  glad  to  note,  is  also  reprehended  in 
Italy,  especially  by  Figliucci,  who  earnestly  exhorts  his  nation  "  to  leave 
off  their  rude  barbarousness  in  riming,  and  follow  diligently  the  excellent 
Greek  and  Latin  examples  in  true  versifying."  "Even  poor  England," 
however,  Ascham  thinks,  "prevented  Italy"  in  first  spying  out  this  fault 
— presumably  through  Cheke  and  Watson — and  for  this  he  rejoices. 
As  for  English  writers  who  have  never  gone  farther  than  the  school  of 
Petrarch  and  Ariosto  abroad  or  of  Chaucer  at  home,  they  may  "have 
pleasure  to  wander  blindly  still"  in  their  "foul  wrong  way,"  though 
they  should  not  envy  others  who  seek  "the  fairest  and  Tightest  way." 
But  Ascham  exhorts  the  "goodly  wits  of  England,  which,  apt  by  nature 
and  willing  by  desire,  give  themselves  to  poetry,  that  they,  rightly  under- 
standing the  bringing  in  of  rimes,  would  labor,  as  Virgil  and  Horace  did 
in  Latin,  to  make  perfect  also  this  point  of  learning  in  our  English 
tongue." 

Thomas  Blenerhasset,  attempting  in  his  Complaint  of  Cadwallader 
in  the  Mirror  for  Magistrates  to  put  into  practice  the  theories  of  the 
Cambridge  scholars,  produces  unrimed  English  alexandrines  which  he 
thinks  agree  very  well  "with  the  Roman  verse  called  iambus."  This 
he  deems  "so  proper  for  the  English  tongue  that  it  is  great  marvel 
that  these  ripe-witted  gentlemen  of  England  have  not  left  their  Gotish 

kind   of  riming and  imitated   the  learned  Latins  and 

Greeks.  "^    Evidently,  the  seed  sown  by  Ascham  has  taken  root.     Abra- 

'  Sec.  part  Mirror  for  Magistrates,  ed.  1578  (see  Schelling,  Poetic  and  Verse  Cril., 
p.  23).  Blenerhasset  with  enthusiasm  continues:  "O  what  brave  beams  of  goodly 
timber  might  be  found  amongst  Churchyard's  Chips,  if  he  had  not  affected  the  riming 
order  of  his  predecessors?  Which  metre  made  not  only  him  inferior  unto  Horace, 
but  it  also  made  a  great  inequality  to  be  betwixt  Buckhurst  and  Homer:  betwixt 
Phaer  and  Virgil :  betwixt  Turbervile  and  Tibullus :  betwixt  Golding  and  Ovid :  betwixt 
George  Gascoigne  and  Seneca:  for  all  these  coming  near  unto  Marot  whom  they  did 
imitate,  did  put  a  great  distance  betwixt  them  and  the  Latins,  with  whom  they  might 
have  been  equal,  even  with  as  little  labor,  and  with  much  more  praise  and  renown. 
Truly  (quoth  Mercury)  let  it  be  as  it  is,  you  shall  see  good  sport  shorth'.  I  smile  to 
see  how  Zoilous  and  Momus  will  cry  out :  O  vain  glorious  head,  which  for  a  singularity 


178  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

ham  Fleming  also  becomes  an  adversary  of  rime,  before  his  clumsy- 
translation  of  Virgil's  bucolics  (1575)  calling  it  "foolish  rime  .  .  .  . 
.  the  nice  observation  whereof  many  times  darkeneth,  corrupteth, 
perverteth,  and  falsifieth  both  the  sense  and  signification."' 

Gascoigne  in  his  Notes  of  Instruction  concerning  the  Making  of  Verse 
or  Rime*  (1575)  makes  no  direct  reference  to  quantitative  verse.  First, 
impressing  the  idea  that  the  "most  necessary  point"  in  making  a  poem  is 
"to  ground  it  upon  some  fine  invention,"  he  insists  that  the  poet  should 
not  allow  "pleasure  of  rime"  or  anything  else  to  carry  him  from  it.  He 
next  lays  down  the  precept:  "Hold  the  same  measure  wherewith  you 
begin,  whether  it  be  a  verse  of  six  syllables,  eight,  ten,  twelve,  etc." 
Many  poets  of  his  day,  he  says,  are  faulty  in  beginning  with  an  alternation 
of  twelve  and  fourteen  syllables  and  after  a  few  verses  carelessly  falling 
into  fourteen  and  fourteen.  Every  word  in  the  verse  should  be  so  placed 
as  to  receive  its  natural  accent.  "Commonly  in  English  rimes,"  Gas- 
coigne "dare  not  call  them  English  verses,"  "we  use  none  other  .  . 
.  .  .  but  a  foot  of  two  syllables,"  namely,  the  iambic.  In  times 
past  other  metres  were  employed.  "Our  father  Chaucer  hath  used  the 
same  liberty  in  feet  and  measures  that  the  Latinists  do  use";  and  Gas- 
coigne explains  sagaciously  that  "although  his  lines  are  not  always  of 

one  self  same  number  of  syllables,  yet the  longest  verse, 

and  that  which  hath  most  syllables  in  it,  will  fall  (to  the  ear)  correspon- 
dent unto  that  which  hath  fewest  syllables  in  it;  and  likewise,  that 
which  hath  fewest  syllables  shall  be  found  yet  to  consist  of  words  that 
have  such  natural  sound,  as  may  seem  equal  in  length  to  a  verse  which 
hath  many  more  syllables  of  lighter  accents."  And  here,  apparently  in 
view  of  the  greater  variety  in  the  older  poetry,  Gascoigne  laments  "that 
we  are  fallen  into  such  a  plain  and  simple  manner  of  writing,  that  there 
is  none  other  foot  used  but  one;  whereby  our  poems  may  justly  be  called 
ry  thms,  and  cannot  by  any  right  challenge  the  name  of  a  verse.  But  since 
it  is  so,  let  us  take  the  ford  as  we  find  it";  and  Gascoigne  hopes  to  set 
down  such  rules  "that  even  in  this  plain  foot  of  two  syllables"  the  poet 
will  "wrest  no  word  from  his  natural  and  usual  sound,"  and  he  gives 
illustrations  apropos. 

doth  endeavor  to  erect  a  new  kind  of  poetry  in  England".  This  was  about  the  time 
of    the    Areopagus    enterprise. 

'  Collier's   Poetical   Decameron,    i,   93. 

^  Smith,   i,  48-57. 


form:   style;  diction;  verse  179 

Polysyllables,  Gascoigne  thinks,  should  be  avoided,  for  they  "cloy 
a  verse  and  make  it  unpleasant,"  whereas,  monosyllables  are  truer 
English,  and  "more  easily  fall  to  be  short  or  long  as  occasion  requireth 

or  of  an  indifferent  sound."     He  exhorts   the  poet  to 

"beware  of  rime  without  reason";  that  is,  he  should  not  allow  the  demand 
for  a  rime  to  alter  the  invention  or  spoil  the  sense — "do  rather  search 
the  bottom  of  your  brain  for  apt  words  than  change  good  reason  for  rum- 
bling rime."  Avoid  the  practice  of  "many  writers  which  do  not  know 
the  use  of  any  other  figure  than  that  which  is  expressed  in  repetition  of 
sundry  words  beginning  all  with  one  letter."  "Modestly  used"  allit- 
eration "lendeth  good  grace  to  a  verse,"  but  Gascoigne  is  disgusted 
with  those  who  "so  hunt  a  letter  to  death." 

After  explaining  caesura,  which  should  come  at  the  end  of  even  syl- 
lables at  the  middle  of  the  verse^ — though  in  rime  royal  it  "  force th  not 
where  the  pause  be  until  the  end  of  the  line," — Gascoigne  describes 
"  the  sundry  sorts  of  verses  which  we  use  nowadays. "  The  first  described, 
rime  royal  (decasyllbic,  stanza  a  babb  cc),is  surely  "  a  royal  kind  of  verse" 
and  serves  "best  for  grave  discourses. "  Ballad  verse  (without  derogatory 
comment)  may  be  of  six,  eight,  or  ten  syllables,  and  is  written  in  stanzas 
of  six  lines,  four  with  cross  rime  followed  by  a  couplet.  Such  verse 
serves  best  for  dances  or  light  matters,  matters  of  love.  Then  there  is 
the  rondlet,  "of  such  measure  as  best  liketh  the  writer,"  most  apt  for 
adage  or  proverb.  "Some  think  all  poems  (being  short)  may  be  called 
sonnets,"  but  Gascoigne  specifies  "fourteen  lines,  every  line  containing 
ten  syllables,"  with  three  stanzas  of  cross  rimes  and  a  couplet  to  "con- 
clude the  whole" — the  form  that  was  used  by  Shakespeare.  "Sonnets 
serve  as  well  in  matters  of  love  as  of  discourse. "  After  mentioning  a  few 
other  forms  less  used,  though  omitting  blank  verse,  Gascoigne  declares 
that  "the  commonest  sort  of  verse  which  we  use  nowadays"  is  "the 
long  verse  of  twelve  and  fourteen  syllables."  He  does  not  know  how 
to  name  it  unless  he  "should  say  that  it  doth  consist  of  poulter's  measure, 
which  giveth  twelve  for  one  dozen  and  fourteen  for  another."  This  is 
"nowadays  used  in  all  themes,"  though  in  Gascoigne 's  judgment  "it 
would  serve  best  for  psalms  and  hymns."     "A  notable  kind  of  rime, 

*  "The  cassura  in  The  Steel  Glass  occurs  almost  invariably  after  the  fourth  syllable, 
and  is  regularly  marked  by  Gascoigne  with  a  comma"  (J.  W.  Cunliffe,  Cambridge 
History,  iii,  237).  Gascoigne  also  follows  his  own  instruction,  in  that  alliteration  is 
"modestly  used"  and  polysyllables  avoided.  These  observances  noticeably  affect 
his  verse.  The  use  of  the  regular  medial  caesura  seems  prevalent  in  the  early  Eliza- 
bethan period. 


180  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

called  riding  rime,"  which  he  almost  forgets  to  mention,  "is  such  as  our 
master  and  father  Chaucer  used  in  his  Canterbury  Tales,  and  in  divers 
other  delectable  and  light  enterprises."     Gascoigne's  closing  advice  is, 

"In  all  these  sorts  of  verses avoid  prolixity  and   tedi- 

ousness,  and  ever,  as  near  as  you  can,  do  finish  the  sentence  and  meaning 
at  the  end  of  every  staff  where  you  write  staves,  and  at  the  end  of  every 
two  lines  where  you  write  by  couples  or  poulter  's  measure:  for  I  see  many 
writers  which  draw  their  sentences  in  length,  and  make  an  end  at  latter 
Lammas. " 

A  good  deal  of  light  on  motives  for  the  imitation  of  classical  metres  and 
on  the  difficulties  encountered,  is  afforded  by  the  correspondence®  between 
Spenser  and  Harvey.  In  October,  1579,  Spenser  writes  from  Leicester 
House  to  his  friend  Master  Harvey,  fellow  of  Trinity  Hall,  Cambridge, 
of  an  enterprise  exceedingly  interesting  to  the  latter.  Mentioning  Mas- 
ter Sidney  and  Master  Dyer  as  having  him  "in  some  use  of  familiarity," 
Spenser  declares:  "And  now  they  have  proclaimed  in  their  dpetw  irayu 
a  general  surceasing  and  silence  of  bald  rimers,  and  also  of  the  very 
best  too :  instead  whereof,  they  have,  by  authority  of  their  whole  senate, 
prescribed  certain  laws  and  rules  of  quantities  of  English  syllables  for 
English  verse,  having  had  thereof  already  great  practice,  and  drawn  me 
to  their  faction."  A  little  farther  on  Spenser  remarks:  "I  am,  of  late, 
more  in  love  with  my  English  versifying  than  with  riming;  which  I  should 
have  done  long  since,  if  I  would  then  have  followed  your  counsel.  Sed 
te  solum  iani  turn  suspicibar  cum  Aschamo  sapere:  nunc  Aulam  video 
egregios  alere  Po'etas  Anglicos. "  By  a  letter  from  Harvey  of  the  preced- 
ing week,  Spenser  perceives  that  his  friend  continues  his  "old  exercise  of 
versifying  in  English :  which  glory  I  had  now  thought  should  have  been 
only  ours  here  at  London  and  the  Court."  The  verses  sent  he  likes 
"passingly  well"  and  reproaches  Harvey  for  not  imparting  his  "hidden 
pains  in  this  kind,"  though  he  finds  that  once  or  twice  he  breaks  Master 
Drant's  rules.  Warning  Harvey  that  he  is  fast  following  and  likely  to 
overtake  him  in  the  new  poetry,  Spenser  requites  him  with  some  verses 

which  he  warrants  "precisely  perfect  for  the  feet and 

vary  not  one  inch  from   the  rule.  "^ 

Harvey,  who  had  evidently  for  some  time  been  advocating  classical 
metres,  is  rejoiced  at  the  new-found  Areopagus  and  makes  greater 
account  of  the  two  worthy  gentlemen,  Sidney  and  Dyer,  "than  of  two 

«  See  Smith,  i,  87-122. 
'  lb.,  89,  90. 


fokm:   style;  diction;  verse  181 

hundredth  Dionisii  Areopagitae,  or  the  very  notablest  senators  that  ever 
Athens  did  afford  of  that  number."  He,  however,  deems  Spenser's 
warrant  not  sufficiently  good  to  assure  precisely  perfect  feet  in  his 
versing  and  points  out  several  faults;  though  these  may  be  owing  to 
gorbellied  Drant's  rules,  with  which  Harvey  is  unacquainted.^  Harvey 
encloses  some  verses  of  his  own  for  Spenser. 

Spenser  likes  Harvey's  "English  hexameters  so  exceedingly  well" 
that  he  inures  his  own  pen  sometimes  in  that  kind,  which  he  finds  neither 
so  hard  nor  so  harsh  but  that  "it  will  easily  and  fairly  yield  itself  to  our 
mother  tongue. "  The  chief  difficulty  is  in  the  accent,  which  sometimes 
gapethor  "yawneth  ill  favoredly"  or  "seemeth  like  a  lame  gosling  that 
draweth  one  leg  after  her. "  "  But  it  is  to  be  won  with  custom,  and  rough 
words  must  be  subdued  with  use.  For  why  a  God 's  name,  may  not  we, 
as  else  the  Greeks,  have  the  kingdom  of  our  own  language,  and  measure 
our  accents  by  the  sound,  reserving  the  quantity  to  the  verse?"  Spenser 
then  pens  a  tetrastich  to  let  Harvey  see  his  "old  use  of  toying  in  rimes 
turned  into  your  artificial  straightness  of  verse."  Whether  in  jest  or 
earnest  here,  he  heartily  wishes  that  Harvey  would  either  send  the  rules 
and  precepts  that  he  observes  in  quantities,  "or  else  follow  mine,  that 
M.  Philip  Sidney  gave  me,  being  the  very  same  which  M.  Drant  devised, 
but  enlarged  with  M.  Sidney's  own  judgment,  and  augmented  with  my 
observations. "  Otherwise,  following  different  rules,  Spenser  fears  they 
might  "overthrow  one  another  and  be  overthrown  of  the  rest."  Again 
professing  his  "special  liking  of  English  versifying,"  he  declares  that  he 
is,  "shortly  at  convenient  leisure,"  to  furnish  Harvey  with  some  token 
of  his  skill  in  this  kind  in  a  book  to  be  entitled  Epithalamion  Thamesis, 
"a  work of  much  labor. "^ 

Harvey  replies  in  a  long  letter,^"  "with  sundry  proper  examples  and 
some  precepts  of  our  English  reformed  versifying."  He  "cannot  choose 
but  thank  and  honor  the  good  Angel  (whether  it  were  Gabriel  or  some 
other)  that  put  so  good  a  motive  into  the  heads  of  those  two  excellent 
gentlemen  M.  Sidney  and  M.  Dyer,  the  two  very  Diamonds  of  her  Majes- 
ty's Court     as  to  help  forward  our  new  famous  enterprise 

for  the  exchanging  of  barbarous  and  balductum  rimes  with  artificial 

*  lb.,  95,  97.  Drant's  rules  for  quantitative  verse  were  apparently  never  written 
down,  at  least  they  are  not  extant.     Drant  died  in  1578. 

'  lb.,  98-100.  Cf.  Faery  Queen,  Bk.  IV,  Canto  XI:  "Where  Thames  doth  the  Med- 
way   wed". 

"76.,    101   ff. 


182  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

verses";  and  he  doubts  "not  but  their  lively  example  and  practice  will 
prevail  a  thousand  times  more  in  short  space  than  the  dead  advertise- 
ment and  persuasion  of  M.  Ascham  to  the  same  effect."  He  "would 
gladly  be  acquainted  with  M.  Drant's  prosody"  and  the  augmentations 
made  by  Sidney  and  Spenser;  however,  he  believes  that  his  own  rules 
"will  fall  out  not  greatly  repugnant,  though  peradventure  somewhat 
different."  Of  one  point  Harvey  feels  assured,  namely,  that  for  the 
"infallible  certainty  of  our  English  artificial  prosody"  the  reformers 

must  first  of  all  universally agree  upon  one  and  the  same 

orthography,  in  all  points  conformable  and  proportionate  to  our  common 
natural  prosody."  Although  he  dare  not  without  further  consulting 
his  pillow  set  down  general  precepts  for  the  new  versifying,  he  is  not 

"greatly  squeamish  of particular  examples"  from  which 

they  may  be  guessed,  and  he  sends  several  specimens  for  Spenser's 
criticism  and  admiration. 

Harvey,  however,  cannot  close  his  letter  without  expressing  himself 
decidedly  on  the  question  of  accent  and  position.  In  reply  to  Spen- 
ser 's  idea  of  subduing  words  with  use,  he  declares  that  he  will  not  consent, 
though  charged  "with  the  authority  of  five  hundred  Master  Drant's, 
to  make  your  carpenter,  our  carpenter,  an  inch  longer  or  bigger  than 
God  and  his  English  people  have  made  him. "  Citing  numerous  examples 
to  show  that  "the  Latin  is  no  rule  for  us,"  he  insists  that  "we  are  to  be 
moderated  and  overruled  by  the  usual  and  common  received  sound,  and 
not  to  devise  any  counterfeit  fantastical  accent  of  our  own,"  or  to  go 
farther  in  prosody  or  orthography  "than  we  are  licensed  and  authorized 
by  the  ordinary  use,  and  custom,  and  propriety,  and  idiom,  and,  as  it 
were,  majesty  of  our  speech:  which  I  account  the  only  infallible  and 
sovereign  rule  of  all  rules."  "In  short,"  concludes  Harvey,  "position 
neither  maketh  short  nor  long  in  our  tongue,  but  so  far  as  we  get  her 
good  leave,"  though  peradventure,  upon  diligent  examination  of  particu- 
lars, "some  the  like  analogy  and  uniformity  might  be  found  out  in  some 
other  respect,  that  should  as  universally  and  canonically  hold  amongst 
us  as  position  doth  with  the  Latins  and  Greeks." 

Thirteen  years  later,  in  1593,  Harvey  was  still  unreconciled  to  "Dran- 
ting  of  verses  ";^^  and  though  he  apparently  never  attained  the  desired 
"uniformity"  in  English  versifying,  he  was  not  averse  to  being  "epi- 
taphed  the  inventor  of  the  English  hexameter — whom  learned  M. 
Stanyhurst  imitated  in  his  Virgil,  and  excellent  Sir  Philip  Sidney  dis- 

^'^  Pierce's   Supererogation,    Smith,   ii,   272. 


form:   style;  diction;  verse  183 

dained  not  to  follow  in  his  Arcadia  and  elsewhere."  And  English,  he 
thinks,  "is  nothing  too  good  to  imitate  the  Greek,  or  Latin,  or  other 
eloquent  languages  that  honor  the  hexameter  as  the  sovereign  of  verses 
and  the  high  controller  of  rimes. "^-  Spenser's  failure  to  put  forth  in 
quantitative  verse  his  Epithalamion  Thames  is  and  his  early  abandonment 
of  "the  new  famous  enterprise"  for  overthrowing  rime,  sufficiently 
indicate  his  apostasy;  and  his  rimes,  discrediting  the  balductum  kind, 
were  in  general  acceptable  to  those  who  desired  a  more  elegant  and  learned 
English  verse  than  had  been  current. ^^ 

Sir  Philip  Sidney's  desire  to  make  a  distinction  between  verse  writer 
and  real  poet  leads  him  to  emphasize  the  subordination  of  verse  as  an 
element  of  poetry.  "It  is  not  riming  and  versing,"  he  declares,  "that 
maketh  a  poet,  no  more  than  a  long  gown  maketh  an  advocate";  "one 
may  be  a  poet  without  versing,  and  a  versifier  without  poetry."  Verse 
is  the  apparel  or  "  ornament  and  no  cause  to  poetry,  sith  there  have  been 
many  most  excellent  poets  that  never  versified,  and  now  swarm  many 
versifiers  that  need  never  answer  to  the  name  of  poets."  The 
senate  of  poets,  however,  "hath  chosen  verse  as  their  fittest  raiment, 
meaning,  as  in  matter  they  passed  all  in  all,  so  in  manner  to  go  beyond 
them."  But  though  verse  and  poesy  are  separable,  "presuppose  it 
were  inseparable truly  it  were  an  inseparable  commenda- 
tion.    For   if speech   next   to   reason   be   the   greatest 

gift  bestowed  upon  mortality,  that  cannot  be  praiseless  which  doth 
most  polish  that  blessing  of  speech,  which  considers  each  word,  not  only 
by  his  forcible  quality  but  by  his  best  measured  quan- 
tity."     Verse,  moreover,  far  exceeds  prose  in  mnemonic  value;  "being 

12  Smith,  ii,  230.  "In  the  next  seat  to  these  hexameters,  adonics,  and  iambics", 
says  Harvey,  "I  set  those  that  stand  upon  the  number,  not  in  metre,  such  as  my  lord 
of  Surrey  is  said  first  to  have  put  forth  in  print,  and  my  lord  Buckhurst  and  M.  Norton 
in  the  tragedy  of  Gorboduc,  M.  Gascoigne's  Steel  Glass"  (Smith,  i,  126). 

"  Cf.  Tears  of  the  Muses,  (11.  545  ff),  Polyhymnia: 

Then    fittest    are    these    ragged    rimes    for    me. 
To    tell    my    sorrows    that    exceeding    be. 
For  the  sweet  numbers  and  melodious  measures, 
With  which  I  wont  the  winged  words  to  tie, 
And   make   a   tuneful   diapason   of  pleasures, 
Now  being  let   to   run   at   liberty 
By  those  which  have  no  skill  to  rule  them  right, 
Have  now  quite  lost  their  natural  deHght. 


184  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

in  itself  sweet  and  orderly  and  being  best  for  memory,  the  only  handle 
of  knowledge,  it  must  be  in  jest  that  any  man  can  speak  against  it."^^ 

Sidney 's  interest  in  the  Areopagus  enterprise  of  introducing  classical 
versifying  was  doubtless,  as  Spenser  in  his  letter  to  Harvey  impUes, 
mainly  that  of  silencing  bald  rimers.  From  his  attitude  a  little  later  in 
the  Apology,  however,  it  seems  evident  that  he  soon  came  to  realize  that 
the  poet-apes  could  mangle  poetry  by  "  versing "^^  as  well  as  by  riming; 
and  his  attempts  to  silence  them  take  another  direction  in  which  he  sub- 
ordinates to  other  and  higher  values  in  poetry  both  riming  and  versing 
and  becomes  neutral  toward  these  two  modes.  "Now  of  versifying," 
he  says,  "there  are  two  sorts,  the  one  ancient,  the  other  modern:  the 
ancient  marked  the  quantity  of  each  syllable,  and  according  to  that 
framed  his  verse;  the  modern  observing  only  number  (with  some  regard 
of  the  accent),  the  chief  life  of  it  standeth  in  that  like  sounding  of  the 
words,  which  we  call  rime."  Which  is  the  more  excellent  "would 
bear  many  speeches."  The  ancient  is  doubtless  "more  fit  for  music, 
both  words  and  tune  observing  quantity,  and  more  fit  lively  to  express 
divers  passions,  by  the  low  and  lofty  sound  of  the  well-weighed  syllable. " 
The  modern  likewise,  "with  his  rimes,  striketh  a  certain  music  to  the 
ear:  and  in  fine,  sith  it  doth  delight,  though  by  another  way,  it  obtains 
the  same  purpose:  there  being  in  either  sweetness,  and  wanting  in  neither 
majesty.  Truly  the  English,  before  any  other  language  I  know,  is  fit 
for  both  sorts. "  After  giving  some  reasons  for  this  superiority,  Sidney 
reverts  to  rime,  in  which,  "though  we  do  not  observe  quantity,  yet  we 
observe  the  accent  very  precisely"  and  in  this  also  English  is  superior  to 
other  languages  and  has  the  advantage  of  greater  freedom  in  accent 
because  of  the  abundance  of  monosyllables.^® 

Richard  Stanyhurst  in  translating  Virgil  takes  it  upon  himself  "to 
execute  some  part  of  Master  Ascham  his  will in  beauti- 

'*  Apology,    Smith,   i,    159,    160,    182,    183. 

^^  As  Daniel  points  out  later  (cf.  Smith,  ii,  363).  Doubtless  the  attempts  by  Harvey 
and  Stanyhurst  were  sufficient  to  provoke  Sir  Philip's  defection. 

"Smith,  i,  204,  205.  Sidney's  experiments  in  classical  versing  in  the  Arcadia, 
where  as  Pope  says  the  verse  "halts  ill  on  Roman  feet"  (cf.  Courthope's  Hist.  Eng. 
Poetry,  ii,  297),  do  not  seem  to  have  aroused  any  such  enthusiasm  in  their  author  as 
in  Gabriel  Harvey,  who  claims  credit  as  a  sort  of  sponsor  (cf.  Smith,  ii,  231).  An  in- 
teresting instance  of  the  observance  of  decorum  in  the  use  of  verse  form  occurs  in  the 
verse  of  the  Arcadia  (Complete  Poems,  Grosart,  ii,  28)  where  Sidney  allows  his  higher 
characters  to  speak  in  hexameters  but  deliberately  drops  to  rime  for  the  shepherd,  for 

A  shepherd's  tale  no  height  of  style  desires. 


form:   style;  diction;  verse  185 

fying  our  English  language  with  heroical  verses.  "^^  He  trusts  that  he 
offers  no  man  injury  if  he  assumes  to  himself  "the  maidenhead  of  all 

works  that  hath  been  before  this  time  in  print divulged  in 

this  kind  of  verse,  "^^  EngUsh  hexameter.  Not  having  been  tied  to  pre- 
cedent, he  has  felt  at  liberty  to  decide  on  the  length  of  English  syllables; 
but  the  advantage  is  not  so  great  as  it  might  seem,  for  if,  for  instance, 
he  should  in  one  place  make  season  long  he  could  not  change  it  where  it 
would  fit  better  as  short.  The  point,  however,  which  Stanyhurst  desires 
especially  to  impress  is  "the  odds  between  verses  and  rime"  and  the 
superiority  of  the  former.  "In  the  one,"  he  declares,  "every  foot, 
every  word,  every  syllable,  yea  every  letter  is  to  be  observed:  in  the 
other,  the  last  word  is  only  to  be  heeded," — and  quoting  a  number  of 
ridiculous  rimes  he  exclaims  with  disgust:  "What  Tom  Towly  is  so 
simple  that  will  not  attempt  to  be  a  wooden  rithmour!"  The  readiest 
way  to  overcome  such  "doltish  coystrels"  and  discredit  their  work, 

he  thinks,  "is  for  the  learned  to  apply  themselves  wholly 

to  the  true  making  of  verses  in  such  wise  as  the  Greeks  and  Latins,  the 
fathers    of    knowledge,    have    done."^^ 

Stanyhurst,  like  Harvey,  finding  it  somewhat  difficult  to  reconcile 
position  and  accent,  refuses  to  be  "stiffly  tied  to  the  ordinances  of  the 
Latins"  and  objects  that  " precisianists  do  attribute  greater  prerogative 
to  the  Latin  tongue  than  reason  will  afford,  and  less  liberty  to  our  lan- 
guage than  nature  may  permit."  Copiously  illustrating  the  point  that 
English  words  may  not  always  be  made  to  conform  to  Latin  rules  of 
quantity,  he  attempts  to  anticipate  the  objections  of  "grammatical 
precisians";  and  though  he  cannot  set  forth  all  the  details  of  his  prosody, 
he  in  theory  espouses  the  principles  that  "the  final  end  of  a  verse  is  to 
please  the  ear "  and  that  "nothing  can  be  done  or  spoken  against  nature, " 
every  language  requiring  that  poets  give  heed  to  its  "particular  lore."2° 
Acting  apparently  on  the  suggestion  of  Harvey^^  in  a  letter  to  Spenser, 

■'  Ded.  Aeneid  (1582),  Smith,  i,   137. 

''  Ih.,  139.  Harvey  in  1592,  defending  himself  as  "inventor  of  the  EngHsh  hexa- 
meter", declares  that  he  was  by  "learned  M.  Stanyhurst  imitated  in  his  Virgil" 
(Smith,   ii,   231). 

^^  Ih.,  140,  141.  Stanyhurst  wrote  "An  Epitaph  against  rime  entitled  Commune 
Defundorum,  such  as  our  unlearned  rithmours  accustomably  make  upon  the  death  of 
every  Tom  Tyler,  as  if  it  were  a  last  for  every  one  his  foot,  in  which  the  quantities  of 
syllables  are  not  to  be  heeded"  (English  Scholars'  Library,  No.  10). 

^'Pref.    ib.,    141-2,    144. 

"  Smith,  i,  102. 


186  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

Stanyhurst  uses  in  his  translation  a  curious  orthography  intended  to 
conform  to  his  prosodic  theory.  In  general,  his  work  tended  to  discredit 
the  reform  that  he  desired  to  promote.^^ 

King  James  VI  begins  his  treatise  on  verse^^  with  rules  for  riming, 
being  evidently  not  averse  to  this  feature  of  poetry.  His  principal 
direction  here  is  to  rime  always  to  the  last  accented  syllable,  which 
is  the  last  foot,  for  when  other  syllables  follow  they  are  eaten  up  by  the 
accent  and  are  not  to  be  counted  as  feet;  and  since  "this  tail  neither 
serves  for  color  nor  foot"  and  "ye  will  scarcely  get  many  words  to  rime 
unto  it,"  it  is  best  to  avoid  long  words  at  the  end  of  the  line. 

Another  reason  for  avoiding  such  a  rime  is  that  "it  keeps  no  flowing"; 
and  flowing  is  the  next  point  explained.  First,  "all  syllables  are  divided 
in  three  kinds":  short,  long,  and  indifferent.  In  our  verse  the  first 
syllable  is  "short,  the  second  long,  the  third  short,  the  fourth  long  .  . 
.  .  .  and  so  forth  to  the  end  of  the  line";  and  to  determine  this  the 
"ear  must  be  the  only  judge."  The  number  of  feet  in  a  line  should  al- 
ways be  even,  except  in  broken  verses,  which  are  out  of  rule.  Lines  should, 
not  exceed  fourteen  feet  nor  have  less  than  four.  There  should 
be  a  "section"  or  caesura  "in  the  midst  of  every  line,"  long  or  short, 
and  "section"  simply  means  an  even  and  especially  long  syllable,  appro- 
priate for  the  rest  in  singing.  This  syllable  and  the  second  and  last  in 
the  line  should  be  longer  than  any  others.  Whole  lines  of  monosyllables 
should  be  avoided — notwithstanding  Gascoigne — for  most  monosyllables 
"are  indifferent"  and  may  be  either  long  or  short  "as  ye  like";  and  in 
such  case  the  second,  caesural,  and  last  syllables  will  not  "be  longer  nor 
the  other  feet  in  the  same  line"  as  they  ought  to  be.  For  these  places 
the  poet  should  choose  words  "of  divers  syllables  and  not  indifferent." 
Such  are  the  principal  "parts  of  flowing,  the  very  touchstone  whereof 
is  music." 

Do  not,  however,  says  James,  put  in  "words  either  metri  causa  or 
yet  for  filling  forth  the  number  of  feet"  unless  they  are  such  as  seem 
necessary  to  express  the  sense.     Eschew  a  long  rabble  of  proper  nouns, 

^-  Abraham  Fraunce,  also  active  in  tlie  new  versification,  was  more  successful  than 
Stanyhurst.     Even  Nash  commends  his  "excellent  translation"  of  Watson's  Amintas; 

though  Ben  Jonson  thought  him  "in  his  English  hexameters a  fool" 

(Smith,  i,  422).  Preceding  the  Amintas  (1592),  he  had  in  1591  prepared  and  dedicated 
to  Lady  Pembroke  two  elaborate  compositions  in  hexameters:  The  Countess  of  Pem- 
broke's Emanuel;  and  The  Countess  of  Pembroke's  Ivyckurch,  the  Emanuel  being 
accompanied  by  hexameter  versions  of  some  of  the  psalms. 

23  Smith,     i,     212-225. 


form:   style;  diction;  verse  187 

for  it  is  difficult  to  make  them  flow  well  in  a  verse. ^^  "Let  all  your 
verse  be  literal,  so  far  as  may  be,  whatsoever  kind  they  be  of,  but  speci- 
ally tumbling  verse  for  flyting.  By  literal  I  mean  that  the  most  part 
of  your  line  shall  run  upon  a  letter,  as  this  tumbling  line  runs  upon  F": 
"Fetching  food  for  to  feed  it  fast  forth  of  the  fairy".  Though  "  all  others 
keep  the  rule,"  that  is,  are  iambic,  this  tumbling  verse  "has  two  short 
and  one  long  through  all  the  line,"  but  for  the  most  part  it  "keeps  no 
kind  nor  rule  of  flowing,"  and  hence  is  called  tumbling  verse. 

In  his  last  chapter  James,  giving  illustrations  of  a  "few  kinds  .  . 
.     .     .     as  the  best, "  indicates  his  "opinion  for  what  subjects  each  kind 

of verse  is  meetest  to  be  used."    The  rimed  couplet 

"serves  only  for  long  histories,  and  yet  are  not  verse."  This  is  Gas- 
coigne's  "riding  rime"  of  Chaucer,  most  apt  for  "a  merry  tale."  "For 
the  description  of  heroic  acts,  martial  and  knightly  feats  of  arms,"  use 
"heroical"  verse — a  stanza  of  nine  decasyllabic  lines  with  two  rimes. 
For  "high  and  grave  subjects"  use  "ballat  royal,"  a  decasyllabic  stanza 
of  eight  lines  (ababbcbc).  "For  tragical  matters,  complaints,  or 
testaments,"  use  "Troilus  verse" — Gascoigne's  "rime  royal."  "For 
flyting,  or  invectives,"  use  tumbling  verse;  and  for  "compendious 
praising"  of  books  or  authors,  or  for  "histories  where  sundry  sentences 
and  change  of  purposes  are  required,  use  sonnet  verse,"  and  James 
refers  to  examples  of  his  own  composition.  "In  matters  of  love" 
use  "common  verse,"  Gascoigne's  "ballade,"  an  octosyllabic  stanza 
composed  of  a  quatrain  and  a  couplet.  All  of  these  kinds  "may  be 
applied  to  any  kind  of  subject,  but  rather, "  says  James,  "  to  these  where- 
of   I    have    spoken." 

Webbe,  in  his  Discourse  of  English  Poetry,  together  with  the  Author's 
judgment  touching  the  reformation  of  our  English  Verse,  as  the  title  indi- 
cates, devotes  a  good  deal  of  attention  to  matters  of  verse.  Considering 
English  poetry  in  an  unsatisfactory  state,  he  would  stir  the  "learned 
laureate  masters"  to  reform,  that  they  might  ratify  and  set  down  "some 
perfect  platform  or  prosodia  of  versifying either  in  imi- 
tation of  Greeks  and  Latins,  or,  where  it  would  scant  abide  the  touch 
of  their  rules,  the  like  observations  selected  and  established  by  the 
natural  affectation  of  the  speech."-^ 

Following  Master  Ascham  in  attributing  to  the  Goths  and  Huns 
"and  other  barbarous  nations"  the  origin  of  "this  tinkerly  verse  which 

^^  "Names  yet  run  smoothly  in  the  even  road  of  a  blank  verse"{Much  Ado,  Y,  ii,  33). 
25  Smith,  i,  229. 


188  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

we  call  rime,"  Webbe  earnestly  wishes  that  Master  Harvey  with  others 
might  continue  in  a  more  serious  way  the  furtherance  of  "that  reformed 
kind  of  poetry"  which  he  "did  once  begin  to  ratify. "^^  But  this  "rude 
kind  of  verse,"  which  " discrediteth  our  speech,  as  borrowed  from  the 
barbarians,"  is  "so  ingrafted  by  custom,  and  frequented  by  the  most 
part"  that  Webbe  "may  not  utterly  disallow  it"  lest  he  "should  seem 
to  call  in  question  the  judgment  of  all  our  famous  writers,  which  have 
won  eternal  praise  by  their  memorable  works  compiled  in  that  verse" 
— a   consideration   that   Daniel   later   uses   against   Campion.     Rime, 

moreover,    Webbe    admits,    "wheresoever    it    began in 

our  English  tongue  beareth  as  good  grace,  or  rather  better,  than  in  any 
other."  But  he  has  faith  that  our  speech  is  "capable  of  a  far  more 
learned  manner  of  versifying.  "^^ 

Before  declaring  this  "learned  manner,"  however,  Webbe  takes 
up  "our  accustomed  English  rime,"  considering  most  requisite  three 
"principal  observations":  first,  that  verses  should  conform  in  metre; 
second,  that  words  should  not  be  so  placed  as  to  wrest  them  from  their 
"natural   inclination"   or   "true   quantity";   third,   that  words  should 

"fall  together  mutually  in  rime not  disordered  for  the 

rime's  sake,  nor  the  sense  hindered. "^^  Of  the  "almost  infinite"  kinds 
of  English  verses,  varying  in  metre,  rime,  and  stanza,  he  proposes  to 
explain  and  illustrate  some  of  the  "best  and  most  frequented,"  to 
avoid  tediousness  limiting  himself  chiefly  to  the  different  sorts  in  the 
Shepherd's  Calendar.  After  exhibiting  Spenser's  verse  as  "authority 
in  this  matter"  and  showing  how  different  kinds  are  adapted  to  different 
purposes,^^  he  proceeds  to  the  question  of  "natural  force  or  quantity." 
The  "old  iambic  stroke"  seems  to  be  the  natural  and  characteristic 
metre  of  English  verse.  And  "though  our  words  cannot  well  be  forced 
to  abide  the  touch  of  position  and  other  rules  of  prosodia,  yet  is  there 
such  a  natural  force  or  quantity  in  each  word,  that  it  will  not  abide  any 
place  but  one,  without  some  foul  disgrace";  and  this  Webbe  illustrates. 
The  poet,  therefore,  should  take  special  heed  not  to  place  a  word  so  that  it 

^^  lb.,  240,  245.  Neither  in  his  review  of  Enghsh  poets  nor  elsewhere  does  Webbe 
mention  the  effort  of  Stanyhurst  in  the  "reformed  kind",  pubhshed  in  1582.  He 
would  doubtless  have  been  delighted  by  such  work  in  the  cause  as  that  of  Dr.  Campion 
in  1602. 

^  lb.,  266,  267. 

^  lb.,  268.  For  these  "three  special  points"  Webbe  is  indebted  to  Gascoigne 
(see  Smith,  i,  49). 

2s  lb.,    270-272. 


form:   style;  diction;  verse  189 

will  be  "wrested  against  his  natural  propriety" , or  accent.  Concerning 
rime,  Webbe  is  persuaded  that  it  "hath  been  the  greatest  decay  of  that 
good  order  of  versifying  which  might  ere  this  have  been  established  in 
our  speech."  Perhaps  the  best  that  can  be  said  of  it  is  that  it  shows 
the  "plentiful  fulness  of  our  speech";  and  in  view  of  this  and  the  force 
of  custom  he,  with  aid  from  Gascoigne,  gives  instructions  for  riming.^" 

Webbe  next  proceeds  to  give  his  "simple  judgment"  concerning  the 
"true  kind  of  versifying  in  imitation  of  Greeks  and  Latins, "^^  being 
persuaded  that  if  it  had  been  sufficiently  practiced  English  might  "long 

ere  this  have  aspired  to  as  full  perfection  as any  other 

tongue  whatsoever."  "Now,  it  seemeth  not  current  for  an  English 
verse  to  run  upon  true  quantity  and  those  feet  which  the  Latins  use, 
because  it  is  strange,  and  the  other  barbarous  custom,  being  within  the 
compass  of  every  base  wit,  hath  worn  it  out  of  credit  or  estimation." 
But  if  writers  of  learning  and  judgment  would  practice  "  that  commend- 
able writing  in  true  verse"  they  might  enlarge  the  credit  of  English 
poetry  so  that  it  "should  not  stoop  to  the  best  of  them  all."  Some 
object  that  English  words  are  not  amenable  to  Latin  prosody,  but  we 
can  alter  the  rule  "according  to  the  quality  of  our  word"  and  where 
there  is  disagreement  "establish  a  rule  of  our  own."  Surely  "if  anyone 
of  sound  judgment  and  learning  should  put  forth  some  famous  work, 
containing  divers  forms  of  true  verses,  fitting  the  measures  according 
to  the  matter,  it  would  of  itself  be  a  sufficient  authority,  without  any 
prescription  of  rules,  to  the  most  part  of  poets  for  them  to  follow  and 
by  custom  to  ratify."  Indeed,  Webbe  has  faith  that  "he  that  shall  with 
heedful  judgment  make  trial  of  the  English  words  shall  not  find  them  so 
gross  or  unapt  but  that  they  will  become  any  one  of  the  most  accustomed 
sorts  of  Latin  or  Greek  verses  meetly,  and  run  thereon  somewhat  current- 
ly."  The  author  himself,  "with  simple  skill,"  has  composed  some 
verses  which  may  serve  to  show  the  possibilities,  though  as  a  pioneer 
he  has  found  it  "a  troublesome  and  unpleasant  piece  of  labor." 

After  explaining  the  various  feet  of  Latin  verse,  Webbe  comes  to  the 
knotty  point  of  quantity  in  English  words  and  the  application  of  Latin 
rules.  One  difficulty  is  that  "excepting  a  few  of  our  monosyllables, 
which  naturally  should  most  of  them  be  long,  we  have  almost  none  that 
will  stand  fitly  in  a  short  foot."  Some  exception  should  therefore  be 
made  "against  the  precise  observation  of  position  and  certain  other  of 

^Ib.,    273-275. 
"/&.,  278  ff. 


190  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  TOETRY 

the  rules."  Webbe  has  also  felt  in  his  own  experiments  the  need  of 
"  some  direction  in  such  words  as  fall  not  within  the  compass  of  Greek 
or  Latin  rules."  Rather  than  "notoriously  impugn  the  Latin  rules," 
however,  he  has  always  sacrificed  the  best  words,  though  even  so  he 
must  confess  to  many  faults.  Most  monosyllables  he  has  been  forced 
to  make  short,  and  he  has  found  that  middle  syllables  that  will  not  come 
under  the  precinct  of  position  "must  needs  be  a  little  wrested,"  mourn- 
fully, for  instance,  he  has  changed  to  mournffdy. 

"The  most  famous  verse  of  all,"  Webbe  declares,  "is  called  hexame- 
trum  epicum,"  and  he  gives  a  specimen: 

Tityrus  happily  thou  llest  tumbling  under  a  beech  tree. 

This  is  better  suited  to  English  speech  than  any  other  kind  of  quan- 
titative verse,  at  least  until  we  have  further  rules.  The  first  to 
attempt  it  "in  English  should  seem  to  be  the  earl  of  Surrey,  who  trans- 
lated some  part  of  Virgil  into  verse  indeed,  but  without  regard  of  true 
quantity  of  syllables.  "^^  ^s  a  model  of  perfection  Webbe  quotes  the 
"famous  distichon,  which  is  common  in  the  mouths  of  all  men,"  made 
by  Master  Watson,  fellow  of  St.  John's    College,  forty  years  past": 

All  travelers  do  gladly  report  great  praise  to  Ulysses 

For  that  he  knew  many  men's  manners,  and  saw  many  cities. 

Referring  also  to  "the  great  company  of  famous  verses  of  this  sort 

not  unknown  to  any,"  made  by  Master  Harvey,  he  next 

introduces  his  own  translation  of  the  first  two  eclogues  of  Virgil. 
Then  dealing  briefly  with  "the  next  verse  in  dignity"  to  the  hexameter, 
carmen  elegiacum,  he  closes  his  specimens  with  his  version  in  sapphics 
of  Hobbinol's  song  in  the  fourth  eclogue  of  the  Shepherd's  Calendar, 
hoping  to  gratify  his  readers  "with  more  and  better  verses  of  this  sort" 
and  being  persuaded  that  "a  little  pain  taking  might  furnish  our  speech 
with  as  much  pleasant  delight  in  this  kind  of  verse  as  any  other  what- 
soever. "  His  final  word  is  an  exhortation  to  the  famous  poets  of  London 
to  lend  their  aid  toward  turning  the  "rabble  of  bald  rimes"  to  famous 
"works,"  comparable  with  the  best  in  other  tongues. 

^*  Cp.  Webbe 's  similarly  loose  remark  (Smith,  i,  242)  that  Piers  Plowman  "was 
the  first  that  I  have  seen  that  observed  the  quantity  of  our  verse  without  the  curiosity 
of  rime".  Both  remarks  are  repeated  by  Meres  (cf.  Smith,  ii,  314,  315).  Webbe 
commends  Robert  Wilmot  for  his  enterprise  of  disrobing  Tancred  and  Gismund  "of  his 
antique  curiosity"  (rime),  "and  adorning  him  with  the  approved  guise  of  our  state- 
liest EngUsh  terms",  blank  verse  (Smith,  i,  412). 


form:  style;  diction;  verse 

Puttenham,  like  Webbe,  devotes  much  attention  to  verse,  evidently 
considering  it  an  essential  element  of  poetry.  ''Poesy,"  he  declares, 
"is  a  skill  to  speak  and  write  harmonically:  and  verses  or  rime  be  a  kind 
of  musical  utterance,  by  reason  of  a  certain  congruity  of  sounds  pleasing 
the  ear"^^  "Speech  by  metre  is  a  kind  of  utterance  more  cleanly  couched 
and  more  delicate  to  the  ear  than  prose  is,  because  it  is  more  slipper 
upon  the  tongue,  and  withal  tuneable  and  melodious,  as  a  kind  of 
music."  It  also  has  the  advantage  of  being  "briefer  and  more  com- 
pendious, and  easier  to  bear  away  and  be  retained  in  memory,  than  that 
which  is  contained  in  multitude  of  words  and  full  of  tedious  ambage 
and  long  periods."     Besides,    it   is    "more    eloquent    and    rhetorical 

than  ordinary  prose because  it  is  decked  and  set  out  with 

all  manner  of  fresh  colors  and  figures."  Prose  has  less  efficacy  because 
it  is  more  common,  and  because  it  is  "wide  and  loose,  and  noth- 
ing numerous,  nor  contrived  into  measures  and  sounded  with  so 
gallant  and  harmonical  accents,  nor,  in  fine,  allowed  that  figurative 
conveyance  nor  so  great  license  in  choice  of  words  and  phrases  as  metre 
is."  In  accordance  with  its  high  functions,  the  "metrical"  is  "a  manner 
of  utterance  and  language  of  extraordinary  phrase,  and  brief  and  com- 
pendious, and  above  all  others  sweet  and  civil."  Being  by  good  wits 
brought  to  perfection,  our  vulgar  riming  poesy  "is  worthily  to  be  pre- 
ferred before  any  other  manner  of  utterance  in  prose.  "^"^ 

As  indicated  by  his  proposition  at  the  beginning  of  his  treatise, 
"that  there  may  be  an  art  of  our  English  poesy,  as  well  as  there  is  of 
the  Latin  and  Greek,  "^^  Puttenham  is  not  an  advocate  of  classical 
metres.  Why  should  not  the  English  have  their  art  of  poetry  as  well 
as  the  Greeks  and  Latins,  "our  language  admitting  no  fewer  rules  and 
nice  diversities  than  theirs?"  They  have  "their  feet  whereupon  their 
measures  stand,  and  indeed  is  all  the  beauty  of  their  poesy,  and  which 
feet  we  have  not,  nor  as  yet  never  went  about  to  frame  (the  nature  of 
our  language  and  words  not  permitting  it)".  But  "we  have  instead 
thereof  twenty  other  curious  points  in  that  skill  more  than  ever  they  had, 
by  reason  of  our  rime  and  tuneable  concords  or  symphony,  which 
they  never  observed." 

Getting  away  from  the  Ascham  tradition  for  the  origin  of  rime, 
Puttenham  traces  it  to  the  "Hebrews  and  Chaldees,  who  were  more 

''  Art  of  English  Poesy,  Smith,  ii,  67. 
"/&.,  8-9,  24-25. 
''lb.,  5. 


192  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

ancient  than  the  Greeks."  Moreover,  it  appears  that  "our  vulgar 
riming  poesy  was  common  to  all  the  nations  of  the  world  besides,  whom 
the  Latins  and  Greeks  in  special  called  barbarous."  It,  therefore, 
has  the  "no  small  credit"  of  being  "the  first  and  most  ancient  poesy, 
and  the  most  universal."  Our  vulgar  poesy,  then,  "more  ancient  than 
the  artificial  of  the  Greeks  and  Latins,"  and  "coming  by  instinct  of 
nature,  which  was  before  art  of  observation,"  a  "natural  poesy,"  "being 

aided  and  amended  by  art is  no  less  to  be  allowed  and 

commended  than  theirs.  "^^  This  patriotic  view  of  rime,  later  elaborated 
and  enforced  by  Daniel,  is  new  in  English  critical  writing  and  marks 
the  beginning  of  a  reaction  against  the  opposing,  though  perhaps  not  less 
patriotic,  view  of  Ascham  and  his  followers. 

Puttenham  discusses  riming  among  the  ancients  and  in  the  time 
of  Charlemagne  and  later,  and  at  the  end  of  his  first  book  gives  his 
"censure"  on  the  "most  commended  writers  in  our  English  poesy. "^'^ 
Chaucer's  "metre  heroical  of  Troilus  and  Cresseid"  he  considers  "  very 
grave  and  stately";  and  though  "his  other  verses  of  the  Canterbury 
Tales  be  but  riding  rime,"  as  Gascoigne  called  it,  it  very  well  becomes 
"the  matter  of  that  pleasant  pilgrimage."     Gower's  verse  is  "homely 

and  without  good  measure his  rime  wrested. "     The  verse 

of  Piers  Plowman  "  is  but  loose  metre. "  Wyatt  and  Surrey  are  reformers 
in  their  metre,  which  is  "sweet  and  well-proportioned." 

Among  the  topics  treated  in  Puttenham 's  second  book,  "Of  Pro- 
portion Poetical,"  are  stanza,  metre,  and  rime.  In  scanning  English 
verse  we  allow,  he  says, "  two  syllables  to  make  one  short  portion  (sup- 
pose it  a  foot)."  Because  Saxon  English  was  monosyllabic  "there 
could  be  no  such  observation  of  times  in  the  sound  of  our  words,  and 
for  that  reason  we  could  not  have  the  feet  which  the  Greeks  and  Latins 
have  in  their  metres."     "Quantity  with  them  consisteth  in  the  number 

of  their  feet,  and  with  us  in  the  number  of  syllables 

in  every  verse."  In  considering  the  "many  sorts  of  measures  we  use 
in  our  vulgar,  "^^  Puttenham  does  not  favor  an  odd  number  of  feet  in  a 
verse,  and  objects  especially  to  composition  in  an  odd  number  of  syllables 
"unless  it  be  holpen  by  the  caesura  or  by  the  accent."  For  instance, 
"a  metre  of  eleven"  as 

I  love  thee,  my  darling,  as  ball  of   mine  eye, 

''lb.,  10,  11. 

"  lb.,  61  ff. 

^Ib.,  70,  71,  73  ff. 


form:   style;  diction;  verse  193 

seems  harsh  to  his  ear  and  goes  "ill  favoredly  and  like  a  minstrel's 
music. "  A  verse  of  eight  syllables  with  caesura  in  the  middle  is  pleasant 
and  "metre  of  ten  syllables  is  very  stately  and  heroical. "  Alexandrine 
verse  is  especially  fit  " for  grave  and  stately  matters."  Verse  of  more 
than  twelve  syllables  passes  the  "bounds  of  good  proportion"  and  that 
of  fourteen  syllables  with  caesura  at  the  end  of  the  eighth  is  tedious, 
for  the  length  of  the  verse  keeps  the  ear  too  long  from  the  delight  of  the 
rime.  "In  every  long  verse  the  caesura  ought  to  be  kept  precisely." 
"Ancient  rimers,  as  Chaucer,  Lydgate,  and  others, "  are  to  be  reprehended 
for  neglecting  it  or  using  it  licentiously.  A  rimer  who  will  be  tied  to  no 
rules  may  "range  as  he  lists,"  but  his  work  will  be  stigmatized  as  "rime 
doggerel." 

Though  English  poetry  lacks  the  "currentness  of  Greek  and  Latin 
feet,"  it  has  instead  in  the  ends  of  verses  the  tuneable  sound  of  rime. 
For  this,  English  monosyllables  serve  "excellently  well,  because  they 
do  naturally  and  indifferently  receive  any  accent,  and  in  them,  if  they 
finish  the  verse,  resteth  the  shrill  accent  of  necessity,"  as  it  does  not  in 
polysyllables.  Moreover,  rime  on  the  "  last  syllable  of  a  verse  is  sweetest 
and  most  commendable."  The  same  terminant  syllables,. as  aspire, 
respire,  should  be  avoided.  Many  makers  offend  in  this;^^  a  more  deli- 
cate ear  would  change  to  aspire,  desire.  In  such  matters  of  cadence 
rests  the  "sweetness  and  cunning  in  our  vulgar  poesy.  "^^  The  maker 
should  "not  wrench  his  word  to  help  his  rime,  either  by  falsifying  his 
accent,  or  by  untrue  orthography,"  though  it  is  better  to  change  the 
orthography  "than  to  leave  an  unpleasant  dissonance."  He  should 
avoid  such  licentious  practice  as  that  of  Gower,  who,  having  no  words  to 
rime  with  joy,  impudently  made  his  other  verse  end  in  the  foreign  word 
roy. 

Since  the  rimes  contain  the  chief  part  of  music  in  verse,  they  should 
not  be  too  far  apart,"  lest  the  ear  should  lose  the  tune  and  be  defrauded 
of  his  delight, "  though  the  metre  of  a  long  line  is  "very  grave  and  state- 
ly. "  On  the  other  hand,  middle  rime,  much  used  by  "  common  rimers, " 
should  be  avoided  as  in  general  should  be  the  "too  speedy  return  of  one 
manner  of  tune,"  for  this  annoys  and  gluts  the  ear,  being  fit  only  for 
the  popular  songs  of  tavern  minstrels  or  those  sung  in  the  streets  from 

^^  Wyatt  and  Surrey,  Puttenham  remarks  (Smith,  ii,  168),  "more  peradventure 
respecting  the  fitness  and  ponderosity  of  their  words  than  the  true  cadence  or  symphony, 
were  very  licentious  in  this  point". 

*»  Smith,   ii,   80,   84. 


194  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

benches  and  barrel  heads,  or  the  old  romances  made  for  the  common 
people.  "Such  were  the  rimes  of  Skelton,  usurping  the  name  of  poet 
laureate,"  who  "used  both  short  distances  and  short  measures,  pleasing 
only  the  popular  ear."  In  the  courtly  maker  these  should  be 
banished  utterly.''^ 

Puttenham  attaches  importance  to  "proportion  by  situation,"  which 
includes  variation  of  rime  sequence  and  variation  of  the  length  of  verses, 
and  of  which  he  gives  a  number  of  ocular  examples.^^  By  such  variations 
poetry  may  be  made  "lighter  or  graver,  or  more  merry,  or  mournful, 
and  many  ways  passionate  to  the  ear  and  heart  of  the  hearer,"  counter- 
feiting, as  it  were,  the  harmonical  tunes  of  vocal  and  instrumental  music. 
The  concurrence  of  these  two  proportions  adds  to  poetry  much  beauty 
and  force,  and  the  various  possibilities  afford  the  poet  wide  opportunity 
of  showing  his  skill.  Following  this,  Puttenham  gives  a  long  chapter^^ 
on  proportion  in  geometrical  figures;  in  these  "the  maker  is  restrained 
to  keep  him  within  his  bounds"  and  show  his  art  and  subtlety  of  device. 
Puttenham  has  obtained  from  an  Italian  gentleman,  who  learned  of  them 
in  the  courts  of  the  orient,  a  choice  collection  of  these  figures,  which, 
giving  ocular  examples,  he  recommends  for  the  use  of  the  delicate  wits 
of  the  Court  in  entertaining  their  servants.  "Passing  from  these  courtly 
trifles,  let  us  talk  of  our  scholastic  toys,  that  is,  of  the  grammatical 
versifying  of  the  Greeks  and  Latins,  and  see  whether  it  might  be  reduced 
into  our  English  art  or  no." 

This  question  Puttenham  discusses  in  a  chapter  with  the  cautious 
heading:  "How  if  all  manner  of  sudden  innovations  were  not  very 
scandalous,  specially  in  the  laws  of  any  language  or  art,  the  use  of  the 
Greek  and  Latin  feet  might  be  brought  into  our  vulgar  poesy,  and  with 
good  grace  enough."*^    Referring  with  lukewarm  approval  to   Stany- 

^'  lb.,  86,  87.     Cp.  Hall  {Satires,  Grosart,  p.  104):  "The  fettering  together  of  the 

series  of  the  verses,  with  the    bonds  of  like  cadence  or  desinence  of  rime 

if  it  be  unusually  abrupt,  and  not  dependent  in  sense  upon  so  near  affinity  of  words, 
I  know  not  what  a  loathsome  kind  of  harshness  and  discordance  it  breedeth  to  any 
judicial  ear".  Cp.  also  Marlowe  (Prol.  Tamburlaine),  who  scorns  the  "jigging  veins 
of  riming  mother  wits".  But  Greene  (1588;  cf.  Courthope,  Hist.  Eng.  Poetry,  ii, 
391)  disdains  the  innovation  of  blank  verse:  "If  there  be  any  in  England  that  set  the 
end  of  scholarism  in  blank  verse,  I  think  it  is  either  the  humor  of  a  novice  that 
tickless  them  with  self-love,  or  too  much  frequenting  the  hothouse  (to  use  the  German 
proverb)  hath  sweat  out  all  the  greatest  part  of  their  wits". 

« lb.,  89  ff 

«76.,    95    ff. 

«/&.,    117. 


form:   style;  diction;  verse  195 

hurst's  translation  of  Virgil,  he  takes  up  this  "scholastic  curiosity"; 
and  desiring  not  to  omit  information  on  "any  point  of  subtility"  or 
novelty,  he  will  by  "idle  observations  show  how  one  may  easily  and 
commodiously  lead  all  those  feet  of  the  ancients  into  our  vulgar  language, " 
whereby  English  metres  may  perhaps  acquire  "a  more  pleasant  numer- 
osity. "  Although  he  does  not  consider  it  discreet  or  courteous  on  the 
authority  of  personal  judgment  to  attempt  to  discredit  our  "forefathers' 
manner  of  vulgar  poesy"  or  to  bring  about  "the  alteration  or  perad- 
venture  total  destruction  of  the  same,"  he  proceeds  to  show  that,  ob- 
serving English  accent  and  without  following  the  license  of  quantitative 
verse,  most  of  the  classical  metres  can,  in  view  of  the  large  infusion  of 
"Norman  Enghsh,"  be  introduced  into  English  verse.  He  would  take 
advantage  of  indifferent  accents  and  of  simplified  orthography,  but  would 
not  compromise  English  accent  or  idiom.  After  showing  in  detail  how 
English  words  are  adaptable  to  the  classical  metres,  he  concludes  that 
"our  plat"  in  this  point  may  "be  larger  and  much  surmount  that  which 
Stany hurst  first  took  in  hand"  in  his  Virgil;  though  we  should  gain  the 
approval  "first  of  the  delicate  ears"  rather  "than  of  the  rigorous  and 
severe  dispositions."  We  cannot,  however,  possibly  follow  all  the 
"metrical  observations"  of  the  ancients,  for  we  cannot,  as  they  did, 
assign  to  our  syllables  absolute  quantitative  values.  Puttenham  con- 
tinues the  discussion  for  three  or  four  chapters,  giving  copious  examples 
of  English  iambics,  trochees,  dactyls,  anapests,  and  other  less  common 
metres.  Keeping  a  tentative  attitude  and  remembering  that  "time  only 
and  custom  have  authority,"  especially  "in  all  cases  of  language," 
he  concludes  by  wishing  "the  continuance  of  our  old  manner  of  poesy, 
scanning  our  verse  by  syllables  rather  than  by  feet,  and  using  most  com- 
monly the  word  iambic  and  sometimes  the  trochaic,  which  ye  shall  dis- 
cern by  their  accents,  and  now  and  then  a  dactyl,  keeping  precisely  our 
symphony  or  rime  without  any  other  mincing  measures,  which  an  idle 
inventive  head   could  easily  devise.""*^ 

Nash,  who  in  1589  lashes  the  "idiot  art-masters"  that  "mounted 
on  the  stage  of  arrogance  think  to  outbrave  better  pens  with  the  swelling 
bombast  of  a  bragging  blank  verse, "■*'^  refers  the  question  "whether 
riming  be  poetry"  to  the  "judgment  of  the  learned."  Turbervile,  he 
thinks,    "in    translating attributed    too    much    to    the 

*^Ib.,  134. 

^«  Pref.  Menaphon,  Smith,  i,  308.  Cp.  Greene's  famous  reference  (in  A  Groats- 
worth  of  Wit)  to  Shakespeare  —  "supposes  he  is  as  well  able  to  bombast  out  a  blank 
verse  as  the  best  of  you". 


196  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

necessity  of  rime";  and  "who  is  it  that  reading  Bevis  of  Hampton  can 
forbear  laughing,"  if  he  mark  the  "scambUng  shift"  to  end  verses  aUke? 
— and  he  propounds  a  few  couplets  "for  the  reader's  recreation."^'' 
Stronger  still  is  his  ridicule  of  the  hexameters  of  Stanyhurst  and  Harvey. 
The  former,  he  declares,  "inspired  with  an  hexameter  fury,  recalled  to 
life  whatever  hissed  barbarism  hath  been  buried  this  hundred  year," 
and  he  gives  a  specimen,  mischievously  travestied,  of  his  "ruffe  raffe 
roaring.""*^  To  Harvey's  defense  of  the  English  hexameter  he  retorts: 
"Our  tongue  is  nothing  too  good,  but  too  bad  to  imitate  the  Greek  and 
Latin."  He  grants  the  hexameter  verse  "to  be  a  gentleman  of  an 
ancient  house  (so  is  many  an  English  beggar);  yet  this  clime  of  ours  he 
cannot  thrive  in.  Our  speech  is  too  craggy  for  him  to  set  his  plow  in; 
he  goes  twitching  and  hopping  in  our  language  like  a  man  running  upon 
quagmires,  up  the  hill  in  one  syllable,  and  down  the  dale  in  another; 
retaining  no  part  of  that  stately  smooth  gait  which  he  vaunts  himself 
with  amongst  the  Greeks  and  Latins.  "^^ 

Sir   John    Harington   does   not    "purpose to   argue 

whether  Plato,  Zenophon,  and  Erasmus  writing  fictions  and  dialogues 

*'' lb.,  329. 
«/6.,  315. 

^'  Strange  News,  Smith,  ii,  240.     Nash  burlesques  the  first  two   lines  of  Harvey 's 
Encomium  Laiirl  (see  Grosart's  ed.  Hall's  Complete  Poems,  p.  xvi): 

What  might  I  call  this  tree?  a  Laurel?  O  bonny  Laurel: 

Needs  to  thy  bows  wUl  I  bow  this  knee,  and  veil  my  bonetto. 

O  thou  weather-cock,  that  stands  on  the  top  of  All  Hallows, 

Come  thy  ways  if  thou  darst,  for  thy  crown,  and  take  the  wall  on  us. 

Bishop  Hall  (Bk.  I,  Satire  VI)  in  humorous  vein  also  indicates  his  attitude  toward 

classical   versing : 

Another  scorns  the  homespun  thread  of  rimes, 
Matched   out    with   lofty   feet    of   elder    times: 
Give  me  the  numbered  verse  that  Virgil  sung, 
And  Virgil  self  shall  speak  the  English  tongue: 
Manliood  and  garboils  shall  he  chant  with  changed  feet 
And   headstrong   dactyls    making    music    meet. 
The    nimble    dactyls    striving    to    outgo 
The    drawling    spondees    pacing    it    below. 
The  lingering  spondees,  laboring  to  delay, 
The    breathless    dactyls    with    a    sudden    stay. 
Who  ever  saw  a  colt  wanton  and  wild, 
Yoked   with  a   slow-foot  ox  on   fallow  field, 
Can  right  agreed  how  handsomely  besets 
Dull  spondees  with  the  English  dactylets. 


form:   style;  diction;  verse  197 

in  prose  may  justly  be  called  poets,  or  whether  Lucan  writing  a  story  in 
verse  be  an  historiographer."^"  He  takes  some  pains,  however,  to 
justify  verse  as  one  of  the  parts  of  poetry,  the  other  part  being  "fiction 
and  imitation,"  though  he  thinks  that  it  suffices  to  show  "by  the  authori- 
ty of  sacred  Scriptures  "  that  "  both  parts     are  allowable. " 

Verse,  "  the  clothing  or  ornament hath  many  good  uses. " 

It  aids  the  memory ;  it  has  "  special  grace in  the  forcible 

manner  of  phrase,  in  which,  if  it  be  well  made,  it  far  excelleth  loose 

speech  or  prose  " ;  and  its  "  pleasure  and  sweetness  to  the  ear 

makes  the  discourse  pleasant  unto  us  often  time  when  the  matter 
itself  is  harsh  and  unacceptable."^^  As  regards  a  point  in  Harington's 
own  verse,  namely,  his  use  of  two-syllabled  and  three- syllabled  rimes, 
with  which  some  have  "nicely  found  fault,"  the  former  at  least  are  war- 
ranted by  approval  of  the  French  and  the  authority  of  Sir  Philip  Sidney, 
who  "not  only  useth  them  but  affecteth  them";  the  latter  he  intended 
as  a  somewhat  rare  ornament,  though  he  confesses  that  it  is  better  not  to 
sow  with  the  whole  sack,  as  he  "would  have  the  ear  fed  and  not  cloyed 
with  these  pleasing  and  sweet  falling  metres."^" 

Chapman,  at  the  end  of  the  century,  with  warrant  takers  an  attitude 
of  assurance  in  the  sufficiency  of  English  verse. 

Sweet   poesy 
Will  not  be  clad  in  her  supremacy 
With  those  strange  garments  (Rome's  hexameters), 
As  she  is  English;  but  in  right  prefers 
Our  native  robes  (put  on  with  skillful  hands — 
English  heroics)  to  those  antic  garlands.^^ 

In  putting  forth  his  translation  of  Achilles  Shield  he  defends  the  length 
of  his  verse  against  the  censure  of  "quidditical  Italianists " ;  for  talk 
they  "of  what  proportion  soever  their  strooting  lips  affect,  unless  it  be 
these  couplets  into  which  I  have  hastily  translated  this  Shield,  they  shall 
never  do  Homer  so  much  right,  in  any  octaves,  canzons,  conzonets, 
or  with  whatsoever  fustian  epigraphs  they  shall  entitle  their  measures."^* 
Chapman  further  declares  the  superiority  of  English  for  verse,  and  es- 

'"  Pref.  Orlando  Furioso,  Smith,  ii,   196. 

"76.,  206,  207. 

«/i.,  221. 

"  Shadow  of  Night  (1594),  Smith,  i,  liv, 

"  Smith,  ii,  306. 


198  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

pecially  of  monosyllables  for  rime,  in  verses  apparently  intended  to  be 

illustrative: 

And  for  our  tongue  that  still  is  so  impair 'd 

By  traveling  linguists,  I  can  prove  it  clear, 

That  no  tongue  hath  the  muses  utterance  heir'd 

For  verse,  and  that  sweet  music  to  the  ear 

Strook  out  of  rime,  so  naturally  as  this; 

Our    monosyllables    so    kindly    fall, 

And  meet  approved  in  rimes  as  they  did  kiss; 

French   and   Italian   most   immetrical, 

Their  many  syllables  in  harsh  collision 

Fall  as  they  break  their  necks;  their  bastard  rimes 

Saluting    as    they    justled    in    transition; 

And  set  our  teeth  on  edge.^^ 

"  Prefixed  to  transl.  Iliad.     Cp.  Marston,  who  in  his  Scourge  of  Villainy  —  though 
it  is  written  in  rime  —  complains: 

Alas,   poor  idle   sound! 
Since  I  first  Phoebus  knew,  I  never  found 
Thy  interest  in  sacred  poesy; 
Thou  to  invention  add'st  but  surquedry, 
A  gaudy  ornature,   but  hast  no  part 
In   that   soul-pleasing  high   infused  art. 

Ben  Jonson  also  writes  "A  Fit  of  Rime  against  Rime"  (Utiderwoods,  XL  VIII) : 

Rime,  the  rack  of  finest  wits, 
That    expresseth    but    by    fits 

True  conceit, 
SpoiHng  senses  of  their  treasure. 
Cozening  judgment  with  a  measure, 

But    false    weight; 
Wresting    words    from    their    true    calling; 
Propping  verse  for  fear  of  falUng 

To  the  ground; 
Jointing     syllables,     drowning     letters. 
Fastening    vowels,    as    with    fetters 

They  were  bound 

Greek  was  free  from  rime's  infection, 
Happy    Greek,    by    this    protection, 

Was     not     spoiled. 
Whilst  the  Latin,  queen  of  tongues. 
Is  not  yet  free  from  rime's  wrongs. 

But  rests  foiled 

Vulgar    languages    that    want 
Words,   and   sweetness,    and   be   scant 


form:  style;  diction;  verse  199 

Thomas  Campion,  in  dedicating  to  Lord  Buckhurst  his  Observations  in 
the  Art  of  English  Poesy,  declares  that  in  view  of  the  fact  that  poetry 
"is  the  chief  beginner  and  maintainer  of  eloquence,  not  only  helping  the 
ear  with  the  acquaintance  of  sweet  numbers,  but  also  raising  the  mind 
to  a  more  high  and  lofty  conceit";  he  has  "studied  to  induce  a  true 
form  of  versifying  into  our  language,  for  the  vulgar  and  unartificial 

custom  of  riming  hath deter  'd  many  excellent  wits  from 

the  exercise  of  English  poesy.  "^^  His  undertaking,  so  ably  refuted  by 
Samuel  Daniel,  ends  the  chapter  of  Elizabethan  attempts  to  introduce 
"reformed  versifying."" 

Campion  begins  by  "declaring  the  unaptness  of  rime,"  "that  vulgar 
and  easy  kind  of  poesy"  which  began  in  the  " lack- learning  times"  of 
"illiterate  monks  and  friars"  and  "in  barbarized  Italy"  after  the  decline 
of  learning.  Though  he  realizes  that  "there  is  grown  a  kind  of  pres- 
cription in  the  use  of  rime,  to  forestall  the  right  of  true  numbers,  as  also 
the  consent  of  many  nations,"  against  which  it  may  seem  vain  to  con- 
tend; yet  "all  this  and  more"  cannot  deter  him"  from  a  lawful  defense 
of  perfection"  or  make  him  "any  whit  the  sooner  adhere  to  that  which 
is  lame  and  unbeseeming."    As  for  custom,  "ill  uses  are  to  be  abolisht 

things  naturally  imperfect  cannot  be  perfected  by  use. " 

Why  not  recall  the  older  and  better  custom,  "yet  flourishing,"  of  the 
"numerous  poesy"  of  the  ancients?  The  "unaptness  of  our  tongues 

Of  true  measure, 
Tyrant  rime  hath  so  abused, 
That    they    long    since    have    refused 

Other     cesure     

"Smith,    ii,    327. 

"  Another  curious  attempt  late  in  the  century  is  to  be  found  in  The  First  Book  of  the 
Preservation  of  King  Henry  the  VII  (cf.  Smith,  i,  377).  The  writer,  who  zealously 
advocates  classical  metres  both  in  his  prose  preface  and  in  his  verses,  scorns  the  igno- 
rant rimers,  "whose  books  are  stuffed  with  lines  of  prose,  with  a  rythm  in  the  end; 
which  every  fiddler  or  piper  can  make  upon  a  theme  given".  Although  Spenser  and 
others  have  excelled  "in  that  kind  of  prose-rythm",  he  "would  to  God  they  had  done 
so  well  in  true  hexameters"  and  thereby  "beautified  our  language"  in  emulation  of  the 
Greeks  and  Latins.  "Master  Ascham  had  much  ado  to  make  two  or  three  verses  in 
English,  but  now  every  scholar  can  make  some.     What  language  so  hard,  harsh,  or 

barbarous,  that  time  and  art  wiU  not  amend? as  gold  surpasseth  lead, 

so  the  hexameters  surpass  rythm-prose". 

It  may  be  noted  that  the  1602  edition  of  Davison's  Poetical  Rhapsody  was  adver- 
tised as  containing  "both rime  and  measured  verse". 


200  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

and  the  difl&culty  of  imitation  disheartens  us:  again,  the  facility  and 
popularity  of  rime  creates  as  many  poets  as  hot  summer  flies.  "^^ 

After  pausing  to  deprecate  "that  absurd  following  of  the  letter^' 
amongst  our  English  so  much  of  late  affected,  but  now  hist  out  of  Paul's 
Churchyard,"  Campion  leaves  to  its  own  ruin  this  folly,  with  which  he 
closely  associates  that  of  riming,  and  turns  to  the  metrical  faults  of  rime 
verse.  The  ear,  he  says,  is  the  chief  judge  of  proportion;  "but  in  our 
kindof  riming  what  proportion  is  there  kept  where  there  remains  such  a 
confused  inequality  of  syllables?  Iambic  and  trochaic  feet,  which 
are  opposed  by  nature,  are  by  all  rimers  confounded."  A  poet 
should  consider  not  only  the  number  of  syllables  but  also  their  quanti- 
tative value;  but  the  rimers  oftentimes  ignorantly  allow  a  pyrrhic  in 
place  of  an  iambic,  "curtailing  their  verse,  which  they  supply  in  reading 
with  a  ridiculous  and  unapt  drawing  of  their  speech.     As  for  example: 

Was  it  my  destiny,  or  dismal  chance?" 

Here  the  last  two  syllables  of  destiny,  though  both  short,  stand  for  a 
foot,  and  "cause  the  line  to  fall  out  shorter  than  it  ought  by  nature."^" 
From  these  and  similar  remarks  it  is  clear  that  Campion,  disregarding 
the  rhythmical  progression  that  carries  a  verse  through  as  iambic,  stickles 
for  quantitative  values  of  syllables  according  to  a  system  that  he  has 
partially  worked  out  based  largely  upon  Latin  rules. 

Another  fault  in  rime  "altogether  intolerable"  to  Campion  is  that 
"it  enforceth  a  man  oftentimes  to  abjure  his  matter  and  extend  a  short 
conceit  beyond  all  bounds  of  art".  Indeed,  "a  curse  of  nature,"  he 
thinks,  is  "laid  upon  such  rude  poesy,"  writers  themselves  being  ashamed 
of  it  and  hearers  in  contempt  calling  it  "riming  and  ballating. "  If 
Italians,  Frenchmen,  and  Spaniards,  who  "with  commendation  have 
written  in  rime,  were  demanded  whether  they  had  rather  the  books 

they  have  publisht should  remain  as  they  are  in  rime 

or  be  translated  into  the  ancient  numbers  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans, 
would  they  not  answer  into  numbers?  What  honor  were  it  then  for  our 

'8  Smith,  ii,   329,   330. 

'*  Sidney  had  frowned  upon  the  dictionary  method  of  "coursing  of  a  letter",  with 
"rimes  running  in  rattling  rows"  (Smith,  i,  202,  and  Sonnet  XV).  Shakespeare 
{Love's  Labor's  Lost,  IV,  ii,  56)  holds  the  abuse  up  to  ridicule  in  the  character  of  Holo- 
femes,  who,  in  "an  extemporal  epitaph  on  the  death  of  the  deer,"  "will  something 
affect  the  letter,  for  it  argues  facility".     It  begins: 

The  preyful  princess  pierc'd  and  prick 'd  a  pretty  pleasing  pricket. 
«»  Smith,  ii,  331. 


form:   style;  diction;  verse  201 

English  language  to  be  the  first  that  after  so  many  years  of  barbarism 
could  second  the  perfection  of  the  industrious  Greeks  and  Romans!"®^ 

Campion  next  proceeds  to  demonstrate®^  "that  the  English  tongue 
will  receive  eight  several  kinds  of  numbers,  proper  to  itself."  "The 
heroical  verse  that  is  distinguisht  by  the  dactyl,"  he  declares,  has  often 
been  attempted  in  EngHsh,  "but  with  passing  pitiful  success;  and  no 
wonder,  seeing  it  is  an  attempt  altogether  against  the  nature  of  our 
language."  Rejecting  the  dactyl  therefore  as  unfit,  there  remain  the 
iambic  and  trochaic  feet,  both  of  which  "accord  in  proportion  with  our 
British  syllables."  These  two  kinds  of  feet  give  rise  to  the  "two  prin- 
cipal kinds  of  verses"  from  which  we  may  easily  derive  other  forms. 

In  successive  chapters  Campion  describes  and  illustrates  "eight 
several  kinds  of  English  numbers."  Beginning  with  iambic  verse, 
he  distinguishes  between  pure  and  licentiate  iambic  and  gives  rules  for 
the  substitutions  allowable  in  the  latter.  After  giving  several  specimens®^ 
of  iambic  verse  (blank  verse),  discussing  its  licenses,  and  mentioning 
the  possibility  of  varying  the  caesura,  he  declares  that  "these  are  those 
numbers  which  nature  in  our  English  destinates  to  the  tragic  and  heroic 
poem."  He  thinks  further  that  this  kind  of  verse  being  "made  a  little 
licentiate,  that  it  may  thereby  imitate  our  common  talk,  will  excellently 
serve  for  comedies."^    Next  Campion  explains  and  illustrates  "iambic 

"76.,    332. 

«2/6.,  332  ff. 

•'  The  longest  specimen  of  licentiate  iambic  is  evidently  inserted  partly  for  the 
persuasive  value  of  its  content: 

Go  numbers,  boldly  pass,  stay  not  for  aid 

Of   shifting   rime,    that   easy   flatterer, 

Whose  witchdraft  can  the  ruder  ears  beguile. 

Let  your  smooth  feet,  enur'd  to  purer  art. 

True  measures  tread.     What  if  your  pace  be  slow, 

And  hops  not  like  the  Grecian  elegies? 

It  is  yet  graceful,  and  well  fits  the  state 

Of  words  ill-breathed  and  not  shap't  to  run. 

Go  then,  but  slowly,  tUl  your  steps  be  firm; 

Tell  them  that  pity  or  pervesely  scorn 

Poor  English  poesy  as  the  slave  to  rime. 

You  are  those  lofty  numbers  that  revive 

Triumphs  of  princes  and  stem  tragedies 

•*  It  does  not  seem  necessary  to  conclude  from  the  above  remarks,  as  some  have 
done,  that  Campion  was  ignorant  of  the  use  of  blank  verse  or  "licentiate  iambic"  in 
contemporary  English  drama. 


202  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

dimeter,  or  English  march  ",^^  which  is  made  up  of  two  feet,  usually 
trochees,  and  an  odd  syllable  common.  The  "English  trochaic  verse "^^ 
of  five  feet,  though  "diversely  used,"  "most  of  all  delights  in  epigrams," 
and  Campion  gives  specimens  of  his  own  "light  poems  in  this  kind." 
"English  elegiac""^  has  for  the  first  verse  a  licentiate  iambic  and  for  the 
second  "two  united  dimeters,"  the  alternation  continuing  throughout. 
The  fifth,  sixth,  and  seventh  kinds  are  English  sapphics,  especially 
"fit  for  ditties  and  odes,  which  we  may  call  lyrical."  These  have 
stanza  forms:  the  first''^  has  three  long  and  one  short  trochaic  verses; 
the  second,^^  a  dimeter  and  three  trochaic  verses;  the  third,^"  four 
trochaic  and  a  dimeter.  The  eighth  kind,  anacreontic  verse,^^  though 
licentiate,  is  "passing  graceful"  in  English  and  excellently  fits  a  madrigal 
or  any  "lofty  or  tragical  matter."  It  consists  of  two  feet:  the  first 
either  a  spondee  or  trochee,  the  second  a  trochee. 

Having  shown  something  of  the  resources  of  "reformed  unrimed 
numbers"  by  his  description  of  these  eight  "kinds  of  English  numbers 
simple  or  compound,"  which  by  long  observation  he  has  "found  agree- 
able with  the  nature  of  our  syllables,"  Campion  presumes  that  "the 
learned  will  not  only  imitate  but  also  polish  and  amplify"  them  with 

"  Raving    war,    begot 
In    the    thirsty   sands. 

"  Kate  can  fancy  only  beardless  husbands, 
That's  the  cause  she  shakes  ofif  ev'ry  suitor. 

"  Constant  to  none,  but  ever  false  to  me, 
Traitor  still  to  love  through  thy  faint  desires. 

^'  Faith's    pure    shield,    the    Christian    Diana, 
England's  glory  crowned  with  all  divineness, 
Live  long  with  triumphs  to  bless  thy  people 
At  thy  sight  triumphing. 

''  Rose-cheekt    Laura,    come, 

Sing  thou  smoothly  with  thy  beauty's 
Silent  music,  either  other 
Sweetly  gracing. 

^^  Just  beguiler, 

Kindest  love,  yet  only  chastest, 
Royal  in   thy  smooth   denials, 
Frowning    or    demurely    smiUng, 
Still    my   pure   delight. 

"  Follow,     follow. 
Though    with   mischief. 


form:   style;  diction;  verse  203 

their  own  inventions.  Though  "some  ears  accustomed  alto- 
gether to  the  fatness  of  rime  may  perhaps  except  against  the  cadences 
of  these  numbers,"  judicial  examination  will  show  that  "they  close  of 
themselves  so  perfectly  that  the  help  of  rime  were  not  only  in  them 
superfluous    but    also    absurd.''^ 

Treating  next  the  quantity  of  syllables/^  Campion  finds  that  English, 
because  of  the  monosyllabic  character  of  the  language,  may  claim  more 
license  than  Latin  or  Greek.  For  this  reason  the  dactyl,  tribrach,  and 
anapest  are  not  greatly  missed.  Accent  above  all  else  "is  diligently 
to  be  observed,  for  chiefly  by  the  accent  in  any  language  the  true  value 
of  the  syllables  is  to  be  measured. "  The  only  impediment  that  can  alter 
the  accent  is  position.  In  a  word  like  Trumpington,  for  instance,  though 
we  accent  the  second  syllable  short,  yet  "it  is  naturally  long"  and  must 
be  so  "held  of  every  composer."  The  "first  rule"  then  is  to  observe 
"the  nature  of  the  accent,  which  we  must  ever  follow."  Position,  "the 
next  rule,"  Campion  explains  with  the  caution  that  since  English  orthog- 
raphy differs  from  common  pronunciation,  sound  rather  than  spelling 
must  be  the  test  of  quantity — as,  "for  love-sick,  love-sik;  "for  dangerous, 
dangeriis";  "for  though,  tho."  Having  given  his  rules  of  quantity  as 
they  came  into  his  memory,  Campion  trusts  that  time  and  practice 
may  produce  "others  more  methodical."  In  the  meantime  he  leaves 
many  points  to  the  judgment  of  the  poets,  concluding  "that  there  is 
no  art  begun  and  perfected  at  one  enterprise." 

But  this  "enterprise,"  on  foot  ever  since  the  college  days  of  Watson 
and  Ascham,  now  at  last  receives  its  quietus  at  the  hands  of  Samuel 
Daniel,  who  in  his  Defense  of  Rime  not  only  effectually  refutes  and  silences 
Campion  but  possibly  influences  him  to  continue  his  riming  by  cleverly 
complimenting  his  "commendable  rimes,"  which  "have  given  heretofore 
to  the  world  the  best  notice  of  this  worth.  "^*  Daniel,  rather  magni- 
fying the  possible  influence  of  "this  detractor a  man  of 

fair  parts  and  good  reputation,"  enters  upon  his  argument  in  a  spirit 

of  national  defense  against  "  the  wrong  done every  rimer 

in  this  universal  island."  He  "could  well  have  allowed"  Campion's 
"numbers,  had  he  not  disgraced  our  rime,  which  both  custom  and  nature 
doth  most  powerfully  defend:  custom  that  is  above  all  law,  nature  that 

"  Smith,    ii,    350. 
"76.,   351   ff. 
'"  lb.,     358. 


204  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

is  above  all  art.'  '^■''  Every  language,  Daniel  believes,  has  its  own  number 
or  measure,  "  which  custom,  entertaining  by  the  allowance  of  the  ear,  doth 
endenize  and  make  natural." 

Verse,  continues  Daniel,  is  a  "frame  of  words  consisting  of  rithmus 

or   mcfrum,   number   or   measure disposed   into   divers 

fashions,  according  to  the  humor  of  the  composer  and  the  set  of  the  time. " 
Evidently  having  in  mind  Campion's  quantities  and  perversions  of 
accent,  he  declares  that  rythms,  "familiar  amongst  all  nations  .  .  . 
.  .  fall  as  naturally  already  in  our  language  as  ever  art  can  make  them, 
being  such  as  the  ear  of  itself  doth  marshal  in  their  proper  rooms;  and 
they  of  themselves  will  not  willingly  be  put  out  of  their  rank,  and  that 
in  such  a  verse  as  best  comports  with  the  nature  of  our  language." 
"As  Greek  and  Latin  verse  consists  of  the  number  and  quantity  of 
syllables,"  so  does  English  verse  consist  of  "measure  and  accent."  Al- 
though the  latter  does  "not  strictly  observe  long  and  short  syllables, 
yet  it  most  religiously  respects  the  accent;  and  as  the  short  and  long 
make  number,  so  the  acute  and  grave  accent  yield  harmony.  And  har- 
mony is  likewise  number;  so  that  the  English  verse  then  hath  number, 
measure,  and  harmony  in  the  best  proportion  of  music.  Which  being 
more  certain  and  more  resounding,  works  that  effect  of  motion  with  as 
happy  success  as  either  the  Greek  or  Latin.  "'^^ 

Rime,  "an  excellency  added  to  this  work  of  measure,  and  a  harmony 
far  happier  than  any  proportion  antiquity  could  ever  show  us,"  Daniel 
thinks,  adds  "  more  grace,  and  hath  more  of  delight  than  ever  bare  num- 
bers, howsoever  they  be  forced  to  run  in  our  slow  language,  can  possibly 
yield."  It  isa natural  harmonical  cadence,  acceptable  alike  to  barbarous 
and  civil  nations,  its  universality  arguing  its  general  "power  in  nature 
on  all."  Such  "force  hath  it  in  nature"  that  "Latin  numbers,  notwith- 
standing their  excellency,  seemed  not  sufficient  to  satisfy  the  ear  of  the 
world"  and  "the  most  learned  of  all  nations"  labored  exceedingly  and 
with  much  success  "to  bring  those  numbers  likewise  unto  it."  "Ill 
customs  are  to  be  left,"  as  says  the  adversary  of  rime;  but  "how  can 
that  be  taken  for  an  ill  custom  which  nature  hath  thus  ratified,  all 

" /&.,  359.  Cp.  Bacon  (Smith,  i,  liv):  "This  is  blameworthy,  that  certain  over- 
zealous  admirers  of  antiquity  have  attempted  to  reduce  the  modern  tongues  to  the 
ancient  measures  (heroics,  elegiacs,  sapphics,  etc.),  which  the  genius  of  their  own  lan- 
guages rejects  and  which  their  ears  none  the  less  abominate.     In  matters  of  this  sort 

the  sense  is  to  be  preferred  to  the  precepts  of  art And  in  fact  it  is  not 

art  but  rather  abuse  of  art  when  it  does  not  represent  nature  but  perverts  it". 

^«  lb.,    360. 


form:   style;  diction;  verse  205 

nations  received,  time  so  long  confirmed,"  its  effects  being  to  delight  the 
ear,  stir  the  heart,  and  satisfy  the  judgment?^''  Let  the  world  then  enjoy 
what  it  knows  and  likes.  The  " tyrannical  rules  of  idle  rhetoric"  cannot 
avail  against  custom  or  the  forces  that  "sway  the  affections  of  men." 

Daniel  with  common  sense  discernment  next  answers  one  of  the 
main  arguments  urged  by  all  advocates  of  classical  metres — namely, 
that  if  these  metres  were  adopted  ignorant  and  incapable  writers  would 
be  deterred  from  poetizing.  Not  so,  he  says,  "for  no  doubt  as  idle 
wits  will  write  in  that  kind,  as  do  now  in  this";  "imitation  will  after, 
though  it  break  her  neck, "  and  "we  are  like  to  have  lean  numbers  instead 
of  fat  rime."  Moreover,  this  "multitude  of  idle  writers  can  be  no  dis- 
grace to  the  good;  for  the  same  fortune  in  one  proportion  or  other  is  proper 
in  a  like  season  to  all  states  in  their  turn;  and  the  same  unmeasurable 
confluence  of  scribblers  happened  when  measures  were  most  in  use 
among  the  Romans,"  their  plenty  having  "bred  the  same  waste  and 
contempt  as  ours  doth  now.  "^^  As  with  them  too  so  will  posterity  out 
of  our  abundance  sift  and  preserve  that  which  is  worthy.  Thus  does 
Daniel  with  his  historical  perspective  bring  to  bear  upon  an  old  question 
new  light  and  wisdom. 

Furthermore,  why,  he  asks,  should  we  labor  "ever  to  seem  to  be 
more  than  we  are,"  afflicting  our  best  delights  with  "laborsome  curiosi- 
ty," "as  if  art  were  ordained  to  afflict  nature,  and  that  we  could  not  go 
but  in  fetters?"  All  must  be  "wrapped  up  in  unnecessary  intrications. " 
This,  however,  might  be  applied  to  the  "multiplicity  of  rimes,  as  is  used 
by  many  in  sonnets."  But  here  rime  itself  seems  to  have  "begot  con- 
ceit beyond  expectation for  sure  in  an  eminent  spirit, 

whom  nature  hath  fitted  for  that  mystery,  rime  is  no  impediment  to  his 

conceit,  but  rather  gives  him  wings  to  mount beyond  his 

power  to  a  far  happier  flight. "  We  need  not  be  slaves  to  rime,  but  rather 
we  can  "make  it  a  most  excellent  instrument  to  serve  us. "^^ 

Not  without  better  reason,  he  insists,  should  we  "yield  our  consents 
captive  to  the  authority  of  antiquity";  "all  our  understandings  are  not 
to  be  built  by  the  square  of  Greece  and  Italy.     We  are  the  chUdren  of 

"76.,  361,  362. 

^8  lb.,     363,     364. 

"76.,  365.  Dryden's  viewpoint  is  characteristically  different:  "But  that  benefit 
which  I  consider  most  in  it  [rime],  because  I  have  not  seldom  found  it,  is  that  it  bounds 
and  circumscribes  the  fancy.  For  imagination  in  a  poet  is  a  faculty  so  wild  and  lawless 
that,  like  an  high  ranging  spaniel,  it  must  have  clogs  tied  to  it,  lest  it  outrun  the  iudg- 
ment"   (Ded.  Rival  Ladies). 


206  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

nature  as  well  as  they";  and  "it  is  not  the  observing  of  trochaics  nor 
their  iambics  that  will  make  our  writings  aught  the  wiser. "  Moreover, 
it  is  "but  a  touch  of  arrogant  ignorance  to  hold  this  or  that  nation 
barbarous,  these  or  those  times  gross."  Man  is  always  "eminent  in 
some  one  thing  or  other  that  fits  his  humor  and  the  times.  "^  Nations 
without  Greek  and  Latin  or  anapests  and  tribrachs  have  developed 
culture  and  worth,  and  the  earlier  native  excellence  of  the  English  is 
not    to    be    despised. 

Indeed,  Daniel,  being  a  true  Englishman,  considers  it  but  "fantastic 
giddiness  to  forsake  the  way  of  other  men,  especially  where  it  lies  toler- 
able."  "But  shall  we  not  tend  to  perfection?  Yes:  and  that  ever  best 
by  going  on  in  the  course  we  are  in,"  with  the  advantage  of  nature  and 
experience,  rather  than  by  ever  beginning  anew.  Had  the  adversary 
of  rime  "taught  us  by  his  own  proceedings  this  way  of  perfection,  and 
therein  framed  us  a  poem  of  that  excellence  as  should  have  put  all  down, 
and  been  the  masterpiece  of  these  times,  we  should  all  have  admired 
him.     But  to  deprave  the  present  form  of  writing,  and  to  bring  us 

nothing  but  a  few  loose  epigrams giveth  us  cause  to 

suspect  the  performance."  We  are,  moreover,  taught  to  imitate  the 
ancients  and  also  to  disobey  their  rules;  "told  that  here  is  the  perfect 
art  of  versifying,  which  in  conclusion  is  yet  confessed  to  be  unperfect." 
And  "who  hath  constituted  him  to  be  the  Radaman  thus,  thus  to  torture 
syllables  and  adjudge  them  their  perpetual  doom?"  Next  year  another 
tyrant  might  arise  to  abrogate  his  rules.  Were  it  not  far  better,  then, 
"to  hold  fast  to  our  old  custom  than  to  stand  thus  distracted  with  uncer- 
tain laws,  wherein  right  shall  have  as  many  faces  as  it  pleases  passion 
to  make  it?"  Indeed,  "of  all  these  eight  several  kinds  of  new  promised 

numbers we  have  only  what  was  our  own  before     .     .     . 

.  .  but  apparelled  in  foreign  titles."  As  for  the  "imagined  quanti- 
ties of  syllables,  which  have  ever  been  held  free  and  indifferent  in  our 
language,  who  can  enforce  us  to  take  knowledge  of  them"  and  bend 
our  language  to  foreign  invention?  English  poets  may  find,  "without 
all  these  unnecessary  precepts,"  what  numbers  best  fit  the  idiom  of  the 
language  and  the  proper  and  natural  places  for  accents,  taught  by 
"nature  and  a  judicial  ear. "^^ 

Let  rimers,  then,  be  in  no  way  discouraged  in  their  endeavors  "by 
this  brave  alarm,"  but  rather  animated  to  exercise  their  best  powers, 

»»/&.,  366,  367. 

"76.,  373,  375,  376-379. 


form:   style;  diction;  verse  207 

thereby  turning  to  advantage  the  intended  harm  of  the  adversary. 
Rime  has  become  the  "fittest  dwelHng  of  our  invention,"  and  Daniel 
stands  forth  "only  to  make  good  the  place  we  have  thus  taken  up, 
and  to  defend  the  sacred  monuments  erected  therein,  which  contain 
the  honor  of  the  dead,  the  fame  of  the  living,  the  glory  of  peace, 
and  the  best  power  of  our  speech,  and  wherein  so  many  honorable  spirits 
have  sacrificed  to  memory  their  dearest  passions,  showing  by  what 
divine  influence  they  have  been  moved,  and  under  what  stars  they 
lived.  "«2 

Yet  notwithstanding  all  that  he  has  delivered  in  defense  of  rime, 
Daniel  is  not  so  much  in  love  with  his  own  mystery  as  to  be  opposed  to 
"the  reformation  and  the  better  settling  these  measures  of  ours. "  Many 
things  might  be  "more  certain  and  better  ordered,"  but  he  will  not 
take  it  upon  himself  to  be  a  teacher.  He  must  confess  that  to  his  own 
ear  "those  continual  cadences  of  couplets^  used  in  long  and  continued 
poems  are  very  tiresome  and  unpleasing";  but  this  he  will  not  presume 
to  condemn.  He  thinks,  however,  that  "sometimes  to  beguile  the  ear" 
by  "passing  over  the  rime,  as  no  bound  to  stay  us  in  the  line  where  the 
violence  of  the  matter  will  break  through,  is  rather  graceful  than  other- 
wise."  "Thereby  they  who  care  not  for  verse  or  rime  may  .  .  . 
.  .  please  themselves  with  a  well-measured  prose."  The  "adver- 
sary," moreover,  has  wrought  upon  Daniel  to  "think  a  tragedy  would 

.«/6.,  380,  381. 
*'  Cp.  Ben  Jonson  (Conv.  Dnimmond,  at  beginning), — "That  he  had  an  intention 

to  perfect  an  epic  poem  entitled  Heroologia all  in  couplets,  for  he 

detesteth  all  other  rimes.  Said  he  had  written  a  Discourse  of  Poesy  both  against  Cam- 
pion and  Daniel,  especially  this  last,  where  he  proves  couplets  to  be  the  bravest  sort 
of  verses,  especially  when  they  are  broken,  like  hexameters;  and  that  cross  rimes  and 
stanzas  (because  the  purpose  would  lead  him  beyond  eight  hnes  to  conclude)  were  all 
forced".     But  Milton  takes  a  different  view  in  his  explanation  in  the  second  edition  of 

Paradise  Lost  oi  "that  which.  st\iTQhledraa.ny why  the  poem  rimes 

not".  "The  measure",  he  says,  "is  English  heroic  verse  without  rime,  as  that  of 
Homer  in  Greek,  and  of  Virgil  in  Latin;  rime  being  no  necessary  adjunct  or  true 
ornament  of  poem  or  good  verse,  in  longer  works  especially,  but  the  invention  of  a  bar- 
barous age  to  set  off  wretched  matter  and  lame  metre a  thing  of  itself, 

to  all  judicious  ears,  trivial  and  of  no  true  musical  delight;  which  consists  only  in  apt 
numbers,  fit  quantity  of  syllables,  and  the  sense  variously  drawn  out  from  one  verse 
into  another;  not  in  the  jingling  sound  of  like  endings,  a  fault  avoided  by  the  learned 
ancients  both  in  poetry  and  all  good  oratory.  This  neglect  then  of  rime  so  Uttle  is 
to  be  taken  for  a  defect,  though  it  may  seem  so  perhaps  to  vulgar  readers,  that  it  is 
rather  to  be  esteemed  an  example  set,  the  first  in  English,  of  ancient  liberty  recovered 
to  heroic  poem,  from  the  troublesome  and  modern  bondage  of  riming". 


208  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

indeed  comport  best  with  a  blank  verse. "  In  some  of  his  own  Epistles, 
in  order  to  avoid  "over-glutting  the  ear  with  that  always  certain  and 
full  encounter  of  rime,"  he  has  essayed  to  alter  the  usual  place 
of  meeting  and  to  set  it  further  ofif  by  one  verse,  but  as  yet  he  cannot 
please  himself  therein,  "this  alternate  or  cross  rime  holding  still  the 
best  place"  in  his  affection.  He  also  avoids  the  deformity  of  mixing 
masculine  and  feminine  rimes,  though  "indeed  there  is  no  right  in  these 
things  that  are  continually  in  a  wandering  motion,  carried  with  the 
violence  of  uncertain  likings,  being  but  only  the  time  that  gives  them 
their  power.  "*^ 

Although  the  conclusion  of  the  verse  controversy  was  necessarily 
somewhat  like  that  of  Rasselas,  "in  which  nothing  is  concluded";  yet  the 
aspirations  aroused  by  contact  with  classical  and  renaissance  culture 
had  bred  a  not  altogether  unwholesome  discontent  in  matters  of  versi- 
fication, and  the  various  excursions  outside  the  happy  valley  of  native 
poesy  were  not  wholly  in  vain.  The  native  way  of  riming  poetry  was 
by  many  men  of  letters  from  Ascham  to  Milton  considered  barbarous 
and  unauthorized,  disorderly  and  without  rule.  Its  accentual  structure 
of  line,  though  largely  haphazard,  seemed  monotonous;  its  ever  recurrent 
rime  cadences,  often  straining  the  sense,  were  cloying  and  wearisome. 
Its  associations  were  common  and  vulgar;  it  was  inelegant,  unrefined, 
unlearned.  In  general,  it  served  to  discredit  poetic  art  and  to  deter  best 
poets.  Here  were  the  learned  Grecians  and  Romans  with  their  world 
famous  examples  inspiring  to  a  more  excellent  way  and  with  definite 
and  authoritative  rules.  Why  not  imitate  them  rather  than  follow  the 
Goths  and  Huns?  A  more  learned  and  elegant  mode  of  verse  would  be  a 
powerful  factor  in  discrediting  and  silencing  the  rimesters  and  in  gain- 
ing prestige  for  the  art  of  poetry.  The  stigma  of  barbarism  in  English 
poetry  would  be  blotted  out;  the  English  language  would  be  honored 
and  beautified;  England  would  put  forth  famous  works  comparable 
with  those  of  other  nations. 

The  trial  is  made,  repeatedly,  and  in  their  excursions  in  quest  of  more 
excellent  ways  for  English  poetry  the  discontented  poets  and  critics  gain 
much  useful  experience.  Their  studies  and  attempted  adaptations  of 
the  prosody  of  other  nations  serve  to  reveal  both  the  limitations  and  the 
resources  of  their  own  language.  Most  of  them  learn  by  experiment  that 
English  accent  cannot  be  ignored  in  any  application  of  classical  rules, 
and  that  it  is  an  almost  hopeless  undertaking  to  give  absolute  quanti- 
se Smith,   ii,   382,   383. 


form:   style;  diction;  verse  209 

tative  values  to  English  syllables.  These  experiments  and  investiga- 
tions on  the  other  hand  disclose  many  new  possibilities  of  orderliness, 
variety,  and  harmony  within  the  limits  of  the  natural  capabilities  of 
the  native  tongue.  Further,  the  expositions  of  the  weaknesses  of  rime 
serve  to  suggest  remedies  for  overcoming  them  and  to  give  help  toward 
the  reconciliation  of  rime  and  reason  as  well  as  rime  and  artistic  merit. 
Light  also  is  thrown  on  subsidiary  questions,  such  as  those  of  stanza, 
orthography,  alliteration,  caesura,  and  the  relative  merits  of  monosyllables 
and  polysyllables.  The  discussions  are  for  the  most  part  unfavorable 
toward  rigid  rules,  being  tentative  and  open-minded,  and  animated 
by  the  spirit  of  emulation  and  advancement. 

Indeed,  the  whole  body  of  verse  criticism  is  unified  in  the  purpose  of 
improving  English  poetry  and  discrediting  the  work  of  rimesters  and 
poet- apes.  This  is  the  aim  of  treatises  advocating  classical  metres; 
the  aim  of  such  expository  works  as  that  of  Gascoigne.  It  is  the  aim  of 
Sidney  in  his  emphasis  of  the  idea  that  it  requires  more  to  make  a  poet 
than  skill  in  versifying.  It  is  the  aim  of  Daniel,  whose  views  were 
apparently  acceptable  as  a  sort  of  final  judgment  of  the  whole 
question.  The  way  to  perfection,  he  sees,  is  "by  going  on  in  the  course 
we  are  in. "  Recognizing  the  principle  that  different  ages  and  different 
nations  must  have  freedom  for  the  expression  of  their  own  distinctive 
genius,  he  'insists  that  the  English  writers  have  already  demonstrated 
their  poetic  powers  in  monuments  evolved  in  accordance  with  the  spirit 
of  the  race  and  the  genius  of  the  language.  The  peculiar  poetic  genius 
or  spirit  of  the  EngUsh  people  should  be  fostered  and  allowed  to  develop 
in  its  own  way.  Any  such  change  as  that  proposed  by  the  classical 
metrists  would  most  disastrously  thwart  the  development  of  national 
poetry,  violating  as  it  would  the  two  great  forces  of  custom  and  nature: 
"custom  that  is  before  all  law,  nature  that  is  above  all  art." 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 

This  bibliography  gives  the  expanded  titles  of  the  works  most  frequently  cited  in  the 
footnotes. 
Ascham,  Roger.  ' 

The  Schoolmaster  (1570);  see  Smith,  "Of  Imitation,"  etc.,  i,  p.  5;  and  ed.  E.  Arber, 

Birmingham,  1870.     The  Whole  Works;  ed.  Dr.  J.  A.  Giles.  3  Vols,  in  4  parts.     Lon- 
don, 1864. 
Campion,  Thomas. 

Observations  in  the  Art  of  English  Poesy  (1602);  Smith,  ii,  327. 
Carew,  Richard. 

Epistle  on  the  Excellency  of  the  English  Tongue  (1595-6?);  Smith,  ii,  285. 
Chapman,  George. 

Prefaces  to  the  translation  of  Homer;  Smith,  ii,  295,  297. 
Chappell,  W. 

The  Ballad  Literature  and  Popular  Music  of  the  Olden  Time.     2  Vols.     London, 

1855-59,  1893. 
Daniel,  Samuel. 

A  Defense  of  Rime  (1603?) ;  Smith,  ii,  356;  also  Haslewood,  Vol.  ii.     Complete  Works; 

ed.  A.  B.  Grosart.     5  Vols.     London,  1885. 
E.  K.  (Edward  Kirke). 

Epistle  Dedicatory  to  The  Shepherd's  Calendar  (1579);  Smith,  i,  127.     This  and 

E.  K's  notes  are  in  nearly  all  editions  of  Spenser. 
Elyot,  Sir  Thomas. 

The  Book  of  the  Governor  (1531);  ed.  H.  H.  S.  Croft.     2  Vols.     London,  1883. 
England's  Parnassus;  ed.  R.  Allot  (1600).     Contains  sections  of  verse  on  "Poesy" 

and  "Poets."     See  Heliconia,  Vol.  iii. 
Gascoigne,  George. 

Certain  Notes  of  Instruction  concerning  the  Making  of  Verse  or  Rime  (1575);  Smith,  i, 

46;  also  in  Arber's  Reprints;  and  in  Haslewood,  Vol.  ii.     Complete  Poems;  ed.  W.  C. 

HazUtt.     2  Vols.     Roxhurghe  Library,  1868. 
Gosson,  Stephen. 

The  School  of  Abuse:  Containing  a  pleasant  invective  against  Poets,  Players,  Jesters, 

etc.  (1579) ;  Smith,  i,  46.    This  and  A  Short  Apology  of  the  School  of  Abuse  (1579)  in 

E.  Arber's  English  Reprints.     Birmingham,  1868. 
Hall,  Joseph. 

Complete  Poems  (including  Satires,  1597-98,  1599,  1602);  ed.  A.  B.  Grosart.     Man- 
chester, 1879. 
Hamelius,  P. 

Was  dachte  Shakespeare  iiber  Poesie.     Bruxelles,  1899. 
Harington,  Sir  John. 

A  Preface  or  rather  a  Brief  A  pology  of  Poetry,  prefixed  to  the  translation  of  Orlando 

Furioso  (1591);  Smith,  ii,  194;  also  Haslewood,  Vol.  ii. 
Harvey,  Gabriel. 

Spenser-Harvey  Correspondence  (1579-80);  Smith,  i,  87.    Four  Letters  (1592); 

extracts  in  Smith,  ii,  229.     A  New  Letter  of  Notable  Contents  (1593) ;  extract  in  Smith, 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  211 

ii,  282.    Pierce's  Supererogation  (1593);  extract  in  Smith,  ii,  245.     Works;  ed.  A.  B. 

Grosart.     3  Vols.     Huth  Library,  1884-85. 
Haslewood,  J. 

Ancient  Critical  Essays  upon  English  Poets  and  Poesy.    2  Vols.    London,  1811-15. 
Heliconia:  Comprising  Selections  of   English   Poetry   of   the   Elizabethan   Age;   ed. 

T.  Park.     3  Vols.    London,  1815. 
James  VI,  King  of  Scotland. 

Rules  and  Cautels  to  be  observed  and  eschewed  in  Scottish  Poesy  (issued  in  Essays  of  a 

Prentice  in  the  Divine  Art  of  Poesy,  1584);  Smith,  i,  208;  reprinted  by  Arber,  1869; 

and  in  Haslewood,  Vol.  ii. 
Jonson,  Ben. 

Timber,  or  Discoveries  Made  upon  Men  and  Matter  (printed  1641);  ed.  F.  E.  Schel- 

Ung.     Boston,  1892.     Works;  ed.  F.  Cunningham.     3  Vols.     London,  1903-04. 
Klein,  D. 

Literary  Criticism  from  Elizabethan  Dramatists.     New  York,  1910. 
Lodge,  Thomas. 

A  Defense  of  Poetry,  Music,  and  Stage  Plays  (1579) ;  Smith,  i,  61;  also  in  Shakespeare 

Soc.  Pub.,  1853;  and  in  Saintsbury's  Elizabethan  and  Jacobean  Pamphlets,  London, 

1892.     Complete    Works;    ed.    E.    Gosse.    4    Vols.     Hunterian    Club,    1883. 
Meres,  Francis. 

Palladis  Tamia,  Wit's  Treasury  (1598);  extracts  in  Smith,  ii,  308;  also  in  Arber 's 

English  Garner,  ii,  94;  and  in  New  Shakespeare  Soc,  1874. 
Mirror  for  Magistrates;  ed.  J.  Haslewood.     2  Vols,  in  three  parts.     London,  1815. 
Moulton,  C.  W. 

The  Library  of  Literary  Criticism  of  English  and  American  Authors.    Vol.  i,  Buffalo, 

N.  Y.,  1901. 
Nash,  Thomas. 

Preface  to  Greene's  Menaphon  (1589);  Smith,  i,  307.     The  Anatomy  of  Absurdity 

(1589);  extract  in  Smith,  i,  321.     Preface  to  Sidney's  Astrophel  arui  Stella  (1591); 

Smith,  ii,  223.     Strange  News,  or  Four  Letters  Confuted  (1592);  extract  in  Smith,  ii. 

239.     Works;  ed.  R.  B.  McKerrow.     4  Vols.     London,  1904-08. 
Puttenham,  George. 

The  Art  of  English  Poesy  (1589);  Smith  ii,  1;  also  Haslewood,  Vol.  i;  and  E.  Arber, 

Birmingham,  1869. 
Saintsbury,  G. 

A  History  of  Criticism.     3  Vols.     New  York,  1900. 
ScheUing,  F.  E. 

Poetic  and  Verse  Criticism  of  the  Reign  of  Elizabeth.     Philadelphia,  1891. 
Sheavyn,  P. 

The  Literary  Profession  in  the  Elizabethan  Age.     Manchester,  1909. 
Sidney,  Sir  PhiHp. 

An  Apology  for  Poetry,  or  The  Defense  of  Poesy  (c.  1583,  printed  1595);  Smith,  i,  148. 

Also  editions  by  E.  Arber,  Birmingham,  1869;  E.  Fliigel,  Halle,  1889;  A.  S.  Cook, 

Boston,  1890;  E.  Shuckburgh,  Cambridge,  1891;  J.  C.  Collins,  Oxford,  1907. 
Smith,  G.  G. 

Elizabethan  Critical  Essays.    With  Introduction.     2  Vols.     Oxford,  1904. 


212  ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 

Spenser,  Edmund. 

Spenser-Harvey  Correspondence  (1579-80);  Smith,  i,  87.     Complete  Works;  Globe 

edition,  Morris  and  Hales,  London,  1890;  Cambridge  edition,  R.  E.  N.  Dodge, 

Boston,  1908. 
Spingarn,  J.  E. 

A  History  of  Literary  Criticism  in  the  Renaissance.     New  York,  1899,  1908. 
Stanyhurst,  Richard. 

Dedication  and  Preface  to  the  Translation  of  the  Aeneid  (1582);  extracts  in  Smith, 

i,  135;  and  reprinted  by  E.  Arber,  English  Scholars'  Library,  No.  10,  London,  1880. 
Symmes,  H.  S. 

Les  Debuts  de  la  Critique  Dramatique  en  Angleterre  jusqu'  a  la  Mort  de  Shakespeare. 

Paris,  1903. 
Webbe,  William. 

A  Discourse  of  English  Poetry  (1586);  Smith,  i,  226;  also  in  Haslewood,  Vol.  ii;  and 

ed.  E.  Arber,  London,  1870. 


INDEX  TO  NAMES 


Addison,  140,  150,  155  n. 

Alexander,  Sir  Wm.,  100  n. 

Allot,  R.,  52  n.,  72  n.,  74  n. 

Aquinas,  117. 

Areopagus,  2,  51,  57,  58,   129,   178  n., 

180,  184. 
Ariosto,  42,  43,  44,  109,  121,  137,  176. 
Aristotle,  72,  76  n.,  94,  95,  99  n.,  113. 
Ascham,  Roger,  1,  11,  19-20,  36,  37,  41, 

49,  54,  61,  94,  95,  114,  124,  142,  143, 

147  n.,  153  n.,  191,  192,  119  n.,  203 

208. 
Bacon,  Francis,  3,  48  n.,  75  n.,  76  n., 

82  n.,  87  n.,  88  n.,  90  n.,  97  n.,  98  n. 

172  n.,  204  n. 
Baldwin,  Wm.,  113. 
Bale,  37. 

Barclay,  Alexander,  37. 
Barnes,  Barnabe,  70  n. 
Bamfield,  Richard,  33,  80  n. 
Beaumont,  F.,  162  n.,  170  n. 
Blenerhasset,  Thos.,  144,  177. 
Blunderston,  L.,  26  n. 
Breton,  N.,  5  n.,  15,  57  n.,  125. 
Bryskett,  L.,  117. 
Buckhurst,  see  SackviUe. 
Bunyan,  94  n.,  96  n.,  102  n. 
Burleigh,  Lord,  3. 
Burke,  174. 
Burns,  83  n.,  126. 
Byron,  88. 
Caedmon,  66. 
Calvin,  J.,  8. 
Camden,  Wm.,  171  n. 
Campion,  Thos.,  6,  39,  46,  54,  63,  74,  88, 

89,  91,  137,  138,  173  n.,  188,  196-203, 
204,  206,  207  n.  . 
Carew,  R.,  46,  157,  165  n.,  171. 
Carlyle,  77. 

Carpenter,  F.  I.,  4,  172  n. 
Castiglione,  34,  56,  59. 
Caxton,Wm.,21,48,  55,  61. 
Chapman,  G.,  23,  46,  53,  58  n.,  59,  74, 
85  n.,  110,  121,  122,  146  n.,  154  n., 
157,  171,  172  n.,  197. 


Chappell,  W.,  10  n.,  16,  18. 

Charles,  I.,  118  n. 

Chaucer,  2,  10  n.,  37,  44,  49,  51,  53,  115, 

119,  120,  121,  132,  144  n.,  151  n.,  169, 

170,  175,  176,  177,  178,  180,  187,  192, 

193. 
Cheke,  J.,  146,  147  n.,  160,  175,  177. 
Chettle,  Henry,  16,  22. 
Church,  R.W.,  58  n. 
Churchyard,  T.,  2  n.,  13,  39,  74, 125, 177  n. 
Cicero,  66,  72,  79,  136,  162. 
Clauserus,  96. 
Coleridge,  S.  T.,  102  n. 
Collins,  Wm.,  51  n. 
Courthope,  W.  J.,  81  n.,  97  n.,  104  n., 

128  n. 
Cowley,  Abraham,  113  n. 
Cox,  Capt.,  22  n. 
Cunliffe,  J.  W.,  179  n. 
Daniel,  Samuel,  6,  17,  23,  32,  33,  39,  46, 

54,  63-64,  75,  78  n.,  88-90,  91,  107  n., 

121,  122,  128,  137-138,  146  n.,  147  n., 

150,   157,  172-174,  184  n.,  188,   192, 

199,  203-207,  209. 
Dante,  100. 

Davies,  Sir  John,  6,  15,  102  n. 
Davison,  F.,  73  n.,  114,  199  n. 
Dekker,  Thos.,  97  n.,  100  n. 
Demosthenes,  109. 
Dodge,  R.E.N.,  51  n. 
Donne,  John,  29  n.,  115  n. 
Douglas,  Gavin,  55  n. 
Drake,  157. 

Drant,T.,  l,20n.,  180,  181,  182. 
Drayton,  M.,  2  n.,  23,  29  n.,  32,  47  n., 

57  n.,  67  n.,  72  n.,  74,  90  n.,  107  n., 

122  n.,  148  n.,  157,  170  n. 
Dryden,  69,  102  n.,  127  n.,  134  n.,  205  n. 
Du  Bartas  (Salust),  42  n.,  43,  70  n.,  71, 

131  n. 
Dunbar,  Wm.,  160. 
Dyer,  Sir  Edward,  180,  181. 

E.  K.,  2,  5,  11,  14,  20,  21,  26,  27,  30,  38, 
41,  62,  67-68,  69,  81  n.,  118  n.,  129  n. 

132  n.,  144-145,  162-163. 


214 


ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 


Elderton,  Wm.,  13,  156. 

Elizabeth,  Queen,  27,  30,  50  n.,  59,  124, 

133,  142,  143,  161  n. 
Elyot,  Thomas,  1,  36,  49  n.,  66,  79,  112- 

113,  119,  122  n.,  161. 
Ennius,  66. 

Erasmus,  115,  142  n.,  196. 

Fabricus,  62. 

Field,  Richard,  3. 

Fighucci,  177. 

Fleming,  Abraham,  178. 

Fletcher,  Giles,  5,  8  n.,  15,  54  n.,  157. 

Fletcher,  J.  B.,  50  n.,  57  n.,  69  n. 

Florio,  J.,  33. 

Fraunce,  A.,  27  n.,  156,  186  n. 

Friedland,  L.  S.,  97  n. 

Fulwood,  Wm.,  142  n. 

Gascoigne,  George,  2  n.,  20,  41,  49,  52, 
61,  74,  79,  80  n.,  84,  92,  111,  114, 
115  n.,  124  n.,  143,  161,  165,  173  n., 
177  n.,  178-180,  I83vn.,  186,  187,  189, 
192,  209. 

Golding,  Arthur,  37,  43,  92,  93,  95,  105, 

114,  126,  132,  142,  177  n. 
Googe,  Barnabe,  2  n.,  26  n. 
Gosson,  S.,  1,  6,  7,  9,  11,  61,  95,  115. 
Gower,  John,  44,  51,  120,  121  n.,  132,  168, 

169,  192,  193. 
Gray,  Thomas,  51  n.,  53  n. 
Gray,  Wm.,  10. 

Greene,  R.,  8,  15,  118  n.,  194  n.,  195  n. 
Greville,  Fulke,  103. 
Grosart,  A.  B.,  103  n. 
Guazzo,  56. 

Hake,  Edward,  115  n.,  144  n. 
Hall,  Jos.,  15  n.,  16,  23,  31  n.,  42  n.,  53, 

67  n.,  115  n.,  123  n.,  146  n.,  164  n., 

167n.,  194n.,  196n. 
HameUus,  P.,  4  n.,  49  n. 
Harington,  J.,  4,  8,  15,  22,  32,  35,  53,  73, 

82   n.,   92   n.,    106  n.,  108-109,  121, 

137,  156,  173  n.,  196,  197. 
Harvey,  Gabriel,  4,  13,  22,  26,  29,  32,  37, 

38  n.,  39,  42,  50,  52,  57  n.,  71  n.,  80  n., 

118  n.,  122  n.,  129,  131  n.,   132,   145- 

146,    156,  157,  162  n.,  180-183,  184, 

185,  188,  190,  196. 
Hawes,  Stephen,  36,  41  n.,  93,  94,    104, 

121  n.,  142,  155  n.,  160. 


Hazlitt,  Wm.,  133  n. 

Henry  VHI,  10,  29. 

Herbert,  George,  155  n. 

Hesiod,  66,  96. 

Heywood,  Jasper,  167  n. 

Heywood,  Thos.,  70  n.,  97  n.,  171  n. 

Holinshed,  122  n. 

Homer,  23,  46,  66,  74,  85  n.,  96,  107,  110, 
113,  119,  122,  156,  171,  172,  177  n., 
197, 207  n. 

Horace,  1,  20  n.,  38,  62,  131,  166,    177. 

Hoskins,  J.  P.,  80  n. 

James  I,  33,  147  n. 

James  VI  of  Scotland,  50  n.,  61,  71,  84, 
92,  150,  165-166,  168,  186-187. 

Johnson,  Samuel,  49  n.,  51  n. 

Jones,  Richard,  18. 

Jonson,  Ben,  iii,  3  n.,  4  n.,  16,  17,  18  n., 
21  n.,  22,  23  n.,  24,  25  n.,  29  n.,  33  n., 
35,  46  n.,  47  n.,  48  n.,  52,  55  n.,  57  n., 
60  n.,  72  n.,  75  n.,  76  n.,  80  n.,  83  n., 
87  n.,  91,  98  n.,  100  n.,  113  n.,  116  n., 
123  n.,  147  n.,  155  n.,  162  n.,  163  n., 
167  n.,  168  n.,  169  n.,  170  n.,  172  n., 
173  n.,  174  n.,  186  n.,  198  n.,   207  n. 

Jusserand,  J.  J.,  18  n.,  58  n.,  98  n., 

Justinus,  100. 

Juvenal,  23,  28. 

Keats,  119n.,  140. 

Lactantius,  82,  95. 

Landino,  72. 

Laneham,  Robert,  22  n. 

Lilly,  Joseph,  18,  37  n. 

Ling,  Nicholas,  34,  56. 

Lodge,  Thomas,  7,  11,  20,  31-32,  36  n., 
50,  61,  66-67,  70,  80,  95,  96,  99,  105, 
115,  120  n.,  126  n.,  148  n.  172  n. 

Lucan   197. 

Lucian,    110. 

Lydgate,  J.,  37,  44,  113,  169,  193. 

Lyly,  John,  25  n.,  32,  50  n.,  57,  58,  85, 
142  n.,  147  n.,  148  n.,  151. 

Marlowe,  €.,  77,  78  n.,  139,  157,  167  n., 
194  n. 

Marot,  177  n. 

Marston,  J.,  25  n.,  60  n.,  90  n.,  100  n., 
146  n.,  148  n.,  173  n.,  198  n. 

Meres,  F.,  8,  27  n.,  32  n.,  32,  42  n.,  72  n., 
80,  119  n.,  144  n.,  157,  190  n. 


INDEX 


215 


Middleton,  Thomas,  165  n. 

Milton,  48  n.,  76  n.,  90  n.,  117,  118  n., 
123  n.,  133  n.,  165,  207  n.,  208. 

Mirror  for  Magistrates,  2,  74  n.,  113,  122, 
123  n.,  144,  177. 

Mulcaster,  Richard,  43,  170  n. 

Munday,  Anthony,  16. 

Nash,  T.,  4,  5,  7-8,  8,  14,  21-22,  27  n., 
30,  31  n.,  32,  44-45,  47,  51,  52,  57  n., 
74,  80,  109-110,  116  n.,  119  n.,  127  n., 
129  n.,  136,  156,  157,  167  n.,  170-171, 
186,  115-116. 

Newton,  Thomas,  144,  166  n. 

Olney,  Henry,  69. 

Ovid,  43,  76  n.,  92,  95,  105,  108,  109,  110, 
113,  114,  119,  124,  142,  I77n. 

Painter,  Wm.,  125  n. 

Peele,  George,  27  n.,  137,  173  n. 

Pembroke,  Countess  of,  27  n.,  47,  54, 
186  n. 

Persius,  66. 

Petrarch,  19,  83,  128,  146,  147,  177. 

Pettie,  George,  56. 

Phaer,  T.,  26,  37, 43,  44,  125,  132,  166,  167 
176. 

Piers  Plowman,  169,  190  n.,  192. 

Pilgrimage  to  Parnassus,  33  n.,  77  n. 

Pindar,  128,  148,  150. 

Plato,  66,  70,  72,  82  n.,  98,  113,  114,  137, 
196. 

Plautus,  113,  114. 

Polimanteia,  15  n.,  30  n.,  42  n. 

Pope,  Alex.,  51  n.,  69,  90  n.,  184  n. 

Puttenham,  Geo.,  3,  10,  15,  21,  29-30,  32, 
38,  45,  53,  55  n.,  58-59,  63,  72,  73, 
82  n.,  85,  86-87,  91,  92,  106-108,  118  n., 
120,  124  n.,  132-136,  138,  143  n.,  152- 
156,  158,  167  n.,  168-169,  191-194. 

Quintilian,  176. 

Raleigh,  W.,  104,  118,  133. 

Return  from  Parnassus,  5,  28  n.,  78  n. 

Robinson,  Clement,  125. 

Robinson,  Richard,  115  n. 

Ronsard,  79. 

Ruskin,   140. 

Sack\alle,  T.,  50,  177  n.,  183  n.,  199. 

Saintsbury,  G.,  3, 41  n.,  48  n.,  94  n.,  164  n. 

Sandys,  George,  23  n. 

Schelling,  F.  E.,  80  n.,  81  n. 


Scotus,  117. 

Segar,  Wm.,  56. 

Selden,  John,  29  n. 

Seneca,  177  n. 

Shaftsbury,  140. 

Shakespeare,  iii,  4  n.,  16,  18,  20  n.,  22, 
23  n.,  24  n.,  39  n.,  43  n.,  47  n.,  49  n., 
52  n.,  70  n.,  83  n.,  87  n.,  88  n.,  91,  94, 
95n.,97n.,99n.,100n.,101  n.,  105  n., 
116  n.,  120  n.,  122  n.,  126  n.,  127  n. 
140,  144,  147  n.,  149  n.,  153  n.,  157, 
161  n.,  165  n.,  173  n.,  187  n.,  195  n., 
200  n. 

SheavjTi,  P.,  22  n. 

Shelley,  68  n.,  69,  82  n. 

Sherry,  Richard,  142  n. 

Sidney,  2,  5,  7,  8,  10,  13,  21,  26,  27  n., 

28,  30,  31,  37,  38,  39,  42  n.,  46,  50,  51, 
57,  58,  59  n.,  62,  63,  64,  66,  69-70, 
73,  80  n.,  81-84,  85,  88,  89,  90  n., 
91,  92,  93,  94,  95,  96-104,  105,  107, 
108,  109,  111,  116-117,  118,  119,  121, 
125-128,  129,  130,  131,.  132,  133  n., 
134,  137,  138,  139,  140,  142  n.,  144  n., 
146-150,  151,  155,  156,  157,  158,  164- 
165,  168,  172,  180,  181,  182,  183-184, 
197,  200  n.,  209. 

Skelton,  John,  136,  194. 

Smith,  G.  Gregory,  iii,  1  n. 

Somerset,  Duke  of,  10. 

Southern,  John,  168. 

Spenser,  2,3,  5,  11,  12,  20,  21,  22,  26-28, 

29,  30,  31  n.,  32,  34,  37,  39,  41,  42  n., 
43,  44,  46,  50,  51  n.,  52,  57,  58,  60, 
66,  67,  68-69,  70,  72,  77,  80,  81,  84,85 
91,  92,  96,  100,  103,  104-105,  106,  107, 
108,  109,  117-118,  120,  122  n.,  128  n., 
129-131,  132,  134,  139,  140,  144,  145, 
146,  151,  156,  157,  158,  162  n.,  163- 
164,  165  n.,  168,  169,  170  n.,  174,  180- 
183,  184,  185, 188, 190, 199  n. 

Spingam,  J.  E.,  153  n. 

Stanyhurst,  R.,  4,   13,   21,   37,  43,   51, 

95  n.,  109  n.,  156,  167,  168,  182,  184- 

186,  188  n.,  194,  195,  196. 
SuUiard,  Edward,  62. 
Surrey,  2,  26,  37,  39,  49,  63,  74,  132,  142, 

156,    157,    160,    176,    183,    190,    192, 

193  n. 


216 


ELIZABETHAN  CRITICISM  OF  POETRY 


Symmes,  H.  S.,  25  n. 

Tarlton,  Richard,  13,  156. 

Tasso,  22,  43,  44. 

Terence,    114. 

Theocritus,  46. 

TibuUus,  177  n. 

Tottel,  19,  37,  41,  48,  142,  160  n. 

Tubervile,  G.,  37,  125,  156,  177  n.,  195. 

Upham,  A.  H.,  46  n. 

Vaughan,  \Vm.,  9,  75. 

Virgil,  4,  26,  43,  44,  48,  55  n.,  74,  95,  100, 
101,  110,  113,  119  n.,  125,  156,  166, 
167,  176,  177,  178,  182,  184,  185  n., 
190,  195,  196  n.,  197  n. 

Wager,  37. 

Warner,  Wm.,  5,  33,  122  n.,  157. 

Watson,  T.,  49,  175,  177,  190,  203. 

Watson,  Thomas,  155  n.,  186  n. 


Watts,  Isaac,  9  n. 

Wayland,  John,  113. 

Webbe,  Wm.,  3,  14,  21,  28,  36  n.,  38, 
43-44,  45,  47,  52,  54,  62,  72,  85,91 
105-106,  118  n.,  119-120,  131-132,  151- 
152,  166-167,  173  n.,  187-190,  191. 

Webster,  John,  25  n. 

Whetstone,  George,  11,  50,  114. 

Wilmot,  Robert,  190  n. 

Wilson,  T.,  93,  112,  113,  134  n.,  141-142, 
160. 

Wither,  George,  18  n.,  22  n. 

Wordsworth,  71  n.,  78  n.,  79,  89,  90  n., 
126,  128,  172,  174  n. 

Wyatt,  Thomas,  39,  49,  132,  142,  156, 
157,  160,  176,  192,  193  n. 

Xenophon,  100,  101,  196. 


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